


A Cold Awakening

by swanderful1



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crime Fighting, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2018-10-31 11:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 186,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10898823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanderful1/pseuds/swanderful1
Summary: Modern crime AU. Twenty years have gone by since Storybrooke was shaken to the core by a gruesome crime that went unsolved. Sheriff David Nolan and his partner, daughter Emma are forced to revisit the crime. At the same time, Killian Jones and his older brother Liam have been drawn back to the town they had longed to never see again, struggling to find their own answers.As taunting notes and clues show up they are taken on a journey to finally bring justice for the Jones family. And Emma Nolan finds herself caught in a situation more dangerous than she could have ever imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

It was your typical rainy northeast day in Storybrooke, Maine. The sky was an overcast, mulled gray. The wind whipped idly at the trees now beginning to sprout their leaves after a long and brutal winter. The town square was flooded with citizens shielding themselves from the elements with umbrellas and hooded jackets.  
Emma Nolan, the town’s deputy sheriff, made her way to the station as she did every morning before making her rounds about the town. Not much to deal with by way of law enforcement in such a small town. That was until today.  
After sending her son Henry off to the school bus she usually went to grab a cup of coffee at Granny’s (Emma found herself to be basically useless without at least one coffee). Cream, sugar and a hint of cinnamon sprinkled on the whipped cream topping. She smiled as the first sip of the hot, liquid energy made its way down her throat.

“Good. You’re here,” her father David Nolan, partner in running the small police force, greeted her as she entered the office that was usually lifeless this time of day.  
“What is it? What was your message about?” Emma had received a call not twenty minutes ago from David telling her to get to the station as soon as possible. It was a rare occurrence when anything out of the ordinary came up. Storybrooke was a relatively uneventful town.  
“There’s been a break in the case, Emma,” his eyes turned darker, more serious than the usual lighthearted glow he maintained as the town golden boy. David Nolan, high school football star, straight “A” student, overall good guy, who joined the police force quickly after graduating. This was the time of Storybrooke’s one and only defining flaw, the blemish on the otherwise perfect record of the small Maine town.  
“You mean….?” She was afraid to even say it out loud.  
“Yes. The Jones family murder case has been reopened.”

 

A half hour later Emma found herself in the squad car with her father riding toward the edge of town. Dozens of barren trees whipped passed as Emma looked out the window trying to familiarize herself with the area, a quieter part of town where not many lived. Only the wealthiest and most elite members of Storybrooke lived on the outer edge of town. There was an immense supply of lush land, tons of privacy, and for most it was where their ancestors had settled hundreds of years ago when Storybrooke was a mere field. Old money.  
Coincidentally this was also where one of the most brutal murder cases in all of Maine had occurred. 18 years ago, on the night of September 16, 1997, Brennan and Moira Jones were stabbed to death in their own home. The knife pierced Brennan nearly 82 times, while Moira showed stab wounds from 17 times.

“Still eerie isn’t it?” David asked as they pulled into the circular driveway of the crumbling mansion. What once was a symbol of elegance, grandeur, and money for the town was now falling in around itself. Weeds snaked the marble fountain central to the driveway. The four pillars supporting the sprawling front porch showed signs of structural cracking. The white paint chipped off just about every portion of the home’s exterior.

“My how the mighty have fallen,” Emma mumbled to herself under her breath. The Jones family was money. She could remember from when she was growing up, the subtle but ever-present displays of wealth. The nicest cars in town were driven by Brennan and his wife. Their children, Liam and Killian, were too good for Storybrooke’s public school so they went to private school 45 minutes away. They summered in London where the rest of their relatives lived. Every landmark in town was sponsored by the Jones’ or ancestors of the family.  
Emma got out of the car alongside her father to greet the lead detective on the case, Graham Humbert, a young and handsome homicide detective sent from the “big city” (Boston) to oversee the continued investigation.  
“Sheriff David Nolan and this is my partner, my daughter Emma Nolan.” Graham gave just a hint of a smile as he shook Emma’s hand. She couldn’t help but notice how well he was dressed. Dark gray suit, gold watch, and a pea coat overtop. Emma and David preferred the more casual attire of jeans, boots, and some sort of leather jacket.  
“Shall we?” Graham ushered them in through the front doors that barely held onto the hinges.  
The inside of the home was just as unkempt as the outside. Once grand but deteriorating from floor to ceiling. Emma had only been inside once before. She was a little girl at the time, probably five or six, her blonde curls tied in red ribbons. The Jones’ would throw an annual Christmas party and invite most of the town. Sheriff David Nolan was always on the list of town events. Not only had he lived in Storybrooke since he was born but he was just in general a well-liked guy.

_Emma could almost feel the ornate home reconstructing in her memories. The double winged staircase flanked with illuminated garland. An 18 foot Christmas tree acting as the centerpiece of the two story foyer with an abundance of gifts circling the bottom. It was like a child’s dream, complete with “Santa Claus” taking pictures with all of the children in the den. Young Emma could barely contain her excitement._  
_Later into the evening, Emma made her way up the staircase in search of the other kids in a game of hide and seek. She cracked open a door at the end of one of the long hallways and found herself in the biggest bedroom yet. Probably the parent’s room, she thought to herself. Knowing well enough to not intrude on this space she retreated but was disrupted by hushed tones from inside the room. It sounded like adults, like her mom and dad when they argued but somehow worse. Scarier._  
_“For God sakes control yourself,” a woman urged at whomever was on the other end of the conversation._  
_“I could say the same to you,” a man with a raspy voice responded. It sent a chill up Emma’s spine. She quietly backed away and returned to the populated section of the house to finish playing with the other children without giving any more thought to the very adult and very private exchange she heard in the Jones’ master bedroom._

That was until now, when she stood in the foyer next to her father and the Boston detective, Graham. The chill once again danced up her spine just as it had so many years ago in this very house. She’d always had a strong intuition about people; that was one of the things that made Emma such a great cop, she saw people and situations for what they were. Not to mention her keen sense of truth, the human lie detector that seemed to be built into her body just as much as any other functional organ. Yes, Emma Swan knew when the truth was not being fully revealed, and here in the old Jones mansion she could feel the truth beginning to seep through the crumbling foundation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double updates to get this thing rollin. Feedback is always appreciated. Thanks to everyone who read :)

“Sometime last night an envelope was left in the mailbox outside the station.” They were now back at the office. David was briefing them on why after all these years, the case had been reopened. 

In addition to Emma and Detective Graham the entire force was in the room: Robin Locksley who was another officer, Belle French who was in charge of research and records, Ruby Lucas who was a forensic analyst (and Emma’s best friend), and to cap it all off Neal Gold another officer (and Emma’s ex-boyfriend/Henry’s father, to keep it simple).

“The outside of the envelope was addressed to my name with no other indication of who it came from. Inside was a letter written by someone who claims to know who committed the crime.” David’s face was calm, though receiving this letter had been a great disruption in his usual day. 

“How exactly is this a break in the case? People mess around with this murder all the time, it’s what this town is known for.” Always one to speak up first Neal felt the need to voice whatever thought went through is head. Emma quietly rolled her eyes before directing them to her father.

“Because in the envelope was a lock of Moira Jones’ hair tied with a strip of the nightgown she wore the night she died.”

The room went still. Any buzz that had been going around the group of people had stopped. This was real. In fairness, it was hard to take anything involving the murder seriously. For years they received prank calls from people claiming they knew who had killed Mr. and Mrs. Jones. False leads had run the original investigation team in circles years ago. There had been a Lifetime movie made about it, and it was even featured on an episode of Unsolved Mysteries. People were obsessed.  
David turned on the projector, revealing a copy of the letter he had received. Emma scanned the words trying to make sense of it all.

**“Sheriff Nolan,  
I hope this finds you well. It has been a while since I've stuck my nose where it does not belong but in the interest of justice I find myself penning you this letter. The information following could be detrimental if it is in the wrong hands. I advise you to use the utmost discretion with the details as they are quite gruesome. But I hope this all makes the resolution of this case that much easier for you. However, I do intend to make you work for the reward. When you solve the puzzle that is when you will also know who killed Moira and Brennan Jones.”**

A nondescript signature was scribbled at the bottom, the only part of the letter that had been written not typed. Was that even from the alphabet?

“So what do we do from here? Has DNA been run?” Ruby asked, rising from her seat at the table.  
“We’ve brought in Detective Graham Humbert from Boston and his team will be coming in to assist with the case. He has a great deal of experience in homicide investigations, more than I or anyone else in this room. So it is our responsibility to follow his orders and offer them all we know about the family.” David spoke in a level voice as if to warn his team to remain calm. Panic was one of the things that had caused so many issues in the case years ago.

“Good afternoon everyone I’m Graham Humbert.” His introduction was met with little warmth, after all he was an outsider on a case that felt very personal. “I know many of you have lived in Storybrooke your whole lives but I hope to provide a new perspective to this case. As you know our next move is critical as a new piece of evidence has been physically dropped at your doorstep.”

Emma looked around trying to gauge the reactions of her coworkers. The only one of them who looked remotely welcoming was her father, which was of little surprise.

“That being said we’ve reached out to members of the family, people associated with the family, anyone who could potentially bring information about who was it that could have done this. Not only are we looking to find the person who committed the crime but also the source of this letter. Tomorrow morning we’ve got the first two people coming in bright and early.” Graham twisted the gold watch on his wrist. Emma had to admit, he was awfully handsome for a homicide detective.

“Excuse me, who might that be?” Belle chimed in. 

“Liam and Killian Jones.”

After the meeting with all the agents on the reopened case, the rest of the day was a bit of a whirlwind for Emma. David did his best to overwhelm her with information collected during the first investigation. She suspected it was because her father trusted her the most out of everyone who worked under his unit and wanted to make her as knowledgeable as possible. She was reliable, she was a good judge of character, and she was his right hand partner.

Hours went by in a blur as David gave Emma file after file detailing the murder. After all, she had been only 13 years old when it happened. He, however, had been a part of the original investigation. He knew every inch of it. There was not an aspect of the case David did not have committed to memory even now, many years later. Emma was impressed to say the least.

Returning home to her son Henry was the only relief she had found all day since she had left her house. By the time she got back it was after 10 o’clock. She found him sitting on the couch reading a book. The Catcher in the Rye. Emma was forever thankful for what a good kid her son was. Any time she thought about what she was doing at 13 she shuddered. The thought almost too outlandish to compare to Henry.

“Hey kid, I brought Chinese.” Emma set the brown bag on the kitchen table and did not waste time before digging into her Kung pao chicken. Her long day had left her emotionally exhausted but also physically tired as there had been little time to worry about eating. “I got your favorite, shrimp lo Mein.”

“Did the case really open back up?” were the first words out of his mouth as he placed his book on the table next to the white and red Chinese food cartons.

“What? No ‘hi mom great to see you’ or ‘how was your day?’”

“I mean, technically that is asking you about your day since you’re a cop…” smart kid, smarter than she.

“Yes it did. But I can’t talk any more about it. I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“Come on. We tell each other everything!”

“Well I will tell you that I went the Jones property today.”

“Yeah… and?”

“It’s still super creepy. Completely run down. I think the only people who have been back since the murder are the investigators. And then us today.”

“Didn’t they have kids? Whatever happened to them?”

“Yes. Two sons. Liam and Killian.” Emma took a bite of her chicken. “They were young when it happened. Killian wasn’t much older than you.”

“I can’t even imagine.”

“He was a little different than you. A bit more rough around the edges, kid. At least what I remember of him. He was shipped off to live with relatives in England right after it happened. I think he’s been there ever since.”

“What about the other brother, Liam?”

“Liam was in his senior year of high school. Since he was 18 he was able to drop out of school and move away to work somewhere.”

“You never really know what’s going on in people’s lives I guess,” Henry, always the old and mature soul, capping the conversation there before moving on to talking about school. He wasn’t yet old enough to be applying for colleges but he was taking all of the right steps. Studying hard, getting involved, SAT prep, the whole drill. As he spoke Emma wondered quietly to herself how she and Neil ended up with such a great kid.

Later that night as Emma laid in her bed she thought of the last time she had seen Killian Jones. It was right after the murder of his parents. The town was a chaotic mess. News station trucks lined the streets, privacy was an all but lost luxury, and a sixteen year old Killian Jones found himself in the same place as a young and rebellious Emma Nolan. Her favorite place. A quiet part of the woods where no one went.

 _She was by the creek that ran through the woods of Storybrooke. The spot where she and Neal would meet after curfew. Share stolen moments with each other where no one would find them. She was waiting for him one night when suddenly she was visited by someone who was very much so not Neal._  
_“You shouldn’t be out here all alone, you know.” Killian’s voice came from a few feet away. She had only met him a few times before. In passing at parties, town functions, their fathers were acquaintances. Were, Emma thought to herself._  
_“Neither should you.” She stood her ground. Everyone else in the town seemed to be wary of Killian, Emma though was not a part of everyone._  
_She turned to him. He was a great deal taller than her. And a few years older. He had a bit of a reputation about town, then again so did she._  
_“I’ll leave you be then,” he spun on his heel to walk away. As Emma started to feel the breath return to her lungs he turned to her from several feet away. “Just be… careful.”_  
_If she didn’t know any better she would say he was warning her of something. Or someone?_


	3. Chapter 3

Emma woke abruptly realizing someone was shaking her. As her eyes registered it was Henry looking concerned she shot right up in bed trying to gain composure.  
“Mom, it’s okay. You overslept.” He spoke softly trying to calm her. “I have to leave for school but I’ll see you later. I left coffee in the pot for you.” 

“Thanks, kid. I don’t know what got into me.” She did actually. She had spent hours last night tossing and turning. The note was bothering her. It was under her skin. Whomever had done this knew exactly what had gone down all those years ago. But instead of coming forward they had decided to play a taunting game. What kind of a person would see that as the best option? 

Emma felt like she had a hangover, even though that was impossible and the promise of coffee brought her downstairs to the kitchen. She glanced at the clock on the coffee maker realizing just how late it was and retreating back to her bedroom to quickly throw on some clothes. Fuck. Of all the days to be late. 

 

When Emma reached the station everyone on the investigation team was already there milling about. Ruby met Emma with a forced smile.

“David’s in the room with them now, Em.” Emma tried to read her best friend’s face and it told her everything, she should have been here on time.  
“Sorry I overslept,” a hint of concern crossed Ruby. Emma didn’t really ever oversleep. “Are they here?”

“Yeah they’re in the conference room with your dad and Graham now.”

“What’s everyone else doing?” Emma looked around to see a room of people more or less twiddling their thumbs. Surely there was a better way for each of them to be occupying their time.

“We aren’t allowed in.” The look on Ruby’s face told Emma she was dying to be a fly on the wall in a room with the Jones brothers. 

“I’ll go let David know I’m here and see what I can do,” Emma promised walking from the main office area to the long hallway where the conference rooms were located. A large portion of the hallway wall was made of glass paneling, allowing her to see into the room where the four men and one woman were sitting.

“Morning Em, nice of you to join us.” Neil nudged her playfully. 

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Emma took a sip of her now lukewarm coffee and made every attempt not to twist her face in distaste. She tried to focus her eyes on the people at the table opposite Detective Humbert and her father. The man she could clearly see was quite handsome. He had lovely eyes and tossled curly hair dusted with gray showing his age. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he shifted in his seat. He must be Liam, she thought. When Emma shifted she got a clear look at the woman, a wife perhaps? She was gorgeous. Her dark hair cut short to frame her face. Her deep brown eyes and stern expression allowed her to seemingly be in command of the men around her.

“Regina Mills, she’s their lawyer.” Neal whispered, seemingly reading Emma’s mind. She snuck another glance trying to connect in some way with what was happening in that room.  
About twenty more minutes went by before all five people were standing from the table, reaching across to shake hands. That was when she finally caught a real glimpse of him. 

As he stood she could see he wore a sleek navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. The top button was undone just enough to reveal a tease of unkempt black chest hair. Her eyes made their way up to his jaw, defined and angular, coated with a light dusting of 5 o’clock shadow. His hair well-manicured but just messy enough to look effortless. And then, his eyes.  
Eyes such a clear blue you could find yourself lost and swimming in them, hypnotized by their depth. Killian Jones.

It took Neal bumping her again to bring her out of whatever it was she had fallen into.

“You alright?” he asked with genuine concern. That was the one thing about her ex, he knew her better than most. 

“Yeah, yeah just haven’t had nearly enough coffee today.” She smiled and took a sip trying to make it look as natural as possible. Emma rolled her shoulders back as if to wake herself up. She couldn’t be thinking, staring the way she just had. She wrote it off as a one-time thing, the utter surprise of seeing him again taking over. Nothing else. This was her job for fucks sake. 

Neal took it without argument knowing it wasn’t necessarily the best choice to get into this at work. They tried to maintain their professional relationship as best as they could. Especially because they shared a son.

David and Graham shook hands with Killian, Liam, and their lawyer before exiting the room from the opposite door. Emma had missed most if not all of their discussion with them but to say the least Killian and Liam did not look pleased. She and Neal followed shortly after leaving the hallway where they had looked on.

She watched as the sheriff and lead detective escorted the brothers out of the building. Clearly they had not gotten any new information out of them or they would have held them longer. Emma felt a pang of something deep in her gut. She should have been in that room talking with them. She would have gotten some indication of whether they knew more than they let on. Of that she was absolutely sure.

“Emma,” her father greeted her once they were back in the office. “So nice of you to join us.”  
He was disappointed in her she could tell. They were supposed to be partners. When there is something like this happening, you show up. The air hung thick in the room around them, with the entire team bustling through the main office pretending not to notice the tension between Emma and her father.

“David can I talk to you for a minute?” she finally asked after the silence in the room was too much for just about anyone.

He nodded and made his way to the other side of the building where a small hallway led to his office. The room was dated; wood panels, little sunlight, thick carpet. But the walls were littered with memorabilia to brighten the space. Pictures of his and Mary Margaret’s wedding, his police school certificate, Emma graduating from college, Henry and the family right after he was born.

“I’m so sorry I was late today. I lost track of time this morning. I know this means a lot to you.” She started before the door was entirely closed.

“It should mean a lot to you too, Emma. We’re partners.” The look he gave her could have torn a hole in her heart. “Just be on time tomorrow. We need to get this right this time. You have better intuition than any lie detector test I’ve ever seen. I need you here.”

“I will. I promise.” The look on her face was sincere. She never liked to disappoint her father. They had such a strong bond, ever since she was a little girl.He could never stay mad at her for more than a few minutes. As soon as he saw the sparkle in her eye he lost all resolve and crumbled to a puddle.

“Just be here on time tomorrow. Killian and Liam will be back for more questioning. I didn’t want to keep them long, they seemed tired from traveling back here.” He tried to sound firm but ended the sentence with a smile.

“Of course. How did things go with them today? They seemed angry leaving.”

“Not well. Neither one is too happy about being back here, about the case reopening. Particularly Killian who’s been in London the past twenty years. But they’re an integral piece of the puzzle.”

“To be fair, they’ve both probably spent the remainder of their lives trying to move on from it. It is rather horrific. The town was never too forgiving toward them.” Emma was particularly sympathetic because she could not imagine a life without her parents, or losing them for that matter. After all, they had been with her through everything.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the feedback. It is always appreciated!!!!!

After what had turned out to be an overwhelming two days, Emma found herself sitting alone at the bar. The Rabbit Hole was one of the few places in town that was dark enough you could barely recognize the person sitting next to you. It was part of the reason why when Ruby had asked her to go for a drink later she had chosen the place.  
Henry was with his father and she figured she was well overdue for a drink. Or several.  
It was just after eight that night when Emma felt someone pull out the bar stool next to her and sit down. She swiveled in her chair starting to make some shady comment to Ruby about how she was the one late this time when she realized it wasn’t.

“Is this seat taken?” a silky, smooth voice came out of the man next to her with a slight English hilt. She could literally feel her stomach drop.

“Killian Jones.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. She knew exactly who he was. She would know him anywhere. Even in a dingy, dimly lit bar twenty years older than she had been the last time they spoke. 

“Ah so you’ve heard of me.” Another statement, this time from him. There was a hint of something (sadness?) in his eyes as he said it though he tried to mask it with his confident demeanor. Clearly he had not seen her at the station that afternoon before storming off. But now here he was, right next to her and smelling strongly of rum. He was drunk. 

She snuck a glance at him, evaluating him up and down. He had changed since earlier. No longer was he wearing that perfectly tailored blue suit but had instead switched it in for a pair of dark jeans that fit him just right and a button up shirt (once again exposing a dash of chest hair).  
He looked her up and down as well. But unlike Emma his inhibitions were much lower and he made no attempt to hide it at all, his clear blue eyes taking on a much darker hue as he drank her in. What in the world was behind those eyes?

“You look awfully familiar, darling. We’ve met before?” His English accent was not helping the situation. He had always had one growing up. Both of his parents were from London, but seeing as how he spent the last twenty years overseas, his accent was thicker than she remembered. A fluttering feeling appeared deep within her, one she had not felt in a long time and was doing everything in her power to suppress. She could feel him beginning to recognize her and immediately wanted to avoid any further conversation. 

“I’m meeting someone. She’ll be here any minute.” Emma sipped her beer in hopes that Ruby would burst through the doors at any second to save her before she did something stupid.

“Alright then, love. My apologies for bothering you.” He wasn’t mocking her, instead he collected the glass of rum he had ordered and stood up from his seat to leave her alone like a perfect gentleman. A part of Emma wanted to grab his arm, tell him her name, hope he remembered her even in his intoxicated state, and stare into his gorgeous eyes. However she knew better. He was playing with fire. He was dangerous, as he was the last time she had seen him. Dark. Brooding. Complicated.  
She watched him saunter away to another part of the bar and could see his brother, Liam, waiting to continue a game of pool. It bothered her a little too much that he didn’t remember her right away. They most certainly weren’t friends before he left. But isn’t it always a bit off-putting when someone you remember doesn’t know who you are? And then drunkenly begins to hit on you in a bar? 

“Hey have you been here long?” this time it actually was Ruby who took the seat next to Emma. The brunette was dressed in a short skirt and leather jacket, lips painted a bright red. Emma couldn’t help but laugh a little to herself. The two could not have been more opposite. However, their friendship was strong despite their differences and Emma was always grateful.

“I see Mr. Jawline is here tonight.” She caught her best friend steal a glance toward where Killian walked off to. A wolfish grin crossed the brunette’s face when she turned back around. Almost as if the younger Jones had been fair prey. 

“Who?” Emma played dumb. As opposed to actually acknowledging out loud that he was an attractive man. God forbid. 

“Oh come on, Em. I know you don’t talk about men, like ever. But you do have eyes.” Ruby nudged her playfully. “It doesn’t hurt to look.”  
Emma sipped her beer again, hoping the topic would change. Little did her friend know, Emma had done quite a bit of looking a few minutes ago. 

 

The next morning Emma made sure to arrive at the station bright and early. The rest of the team not there yet she took advantage of the quiet moment she had to herself to prepare for her turn at questioning. 

Reading through some up to date information on Killian and Liam she found out that shortly after their parents’ death, and no conclusive solution had been found, they both left Storybrooke. Liam moved to California and went to work immediately, not bothering to enter college. He married a girl named Laura several years later and together they had one child. A daughter named Harper. He had seemed to have found peace after his parent’s death and created a comfortable life for himself on the west coast. Killian had been brought to London by his aunt and uncle to live. He finished school there, graduated and went on to Oxford University where he studied Business. He now worked for a giant multinational corporation based in London. From what she gathered he was a workaholic. He was 36 years old. Never married. No children. One serious partner, a woman named Grace, for a few years back in 2008. How has a man that attractive only ever had one serious girlfriend? Emma shook her head immediately after the thought. He wasn’t that good looking (okay maybe he was). The brothers maintained a friendly relationship, in fact Liam seemed to be the only long term relationship Killian cared to keep up with. 

“Morning, Em.” David came into the office with two fresh coffees, one for her and him. She smiled and took the warm cup before returning to reading through the massive amounts of paperwork associated with the case.  
The files were thorough. The police force at the time of the murder was not run by David, he was deputy sheriff. His father, Philip Nolan, had been the sheriff at the time, a harsh man with an unforgiving demeanor. The Jones murder had been his life’s work. It sent him into madness when he was not able to come to any sort of conclusion.

She noticed very distinctly underneath the print out of the family tree Philip Nolan kept in his journal that there were little notes about each person. Moira and Brennan both had large red X’s over their names. Both of their siblings were accounted for overseas, it could not have possibly been them. From what Emma could tell, her grandfather had thought one or both of the Jones brothers did it. The focus had been heavily placed on Killian and Liam, far more than anyone else in his notes. At least in the beginning. 

“So your dad thought it was either one of these two?” Emma asked her father. It had been a long time since some of these files has been cracked and she wiped a bit of dust off the journal pages to show David, who was about Emma’s age when the murder had happened. 

“I don’t think my father ever had any true clue to who had done it. It was easy to look at the immediate family though, it always is in a murder investigation.” David’s eyes never met hers, something rare for their dynamic. However, her grandfather had not been a warm and loving paternal figure. Emma barely ever remembered hearing David speak of his dad. “I will not make the same mistakes he did, Em. He focused too hard on only one option.”

“So we are to rule out no one?” 

“Correct. When you put up blinders to other theories that’s when people get away with things. And from the looks of it someone has.” David’s face was morose. Assuming they did solve the Jones murder, David’s father would never get to see it. He would never get to know.  
“Looks like he’s here.” Emma looked out the window by her desk to see a tall figure emerging in the rain from an expensive looking black car. He was masked by the shadow of an umbrella but Emma had about one guess as to who hid behind.

Quickly she stacked the folders and put them in a drawer to look at later. She had seen him at the bar the night before but judging from his approach to her, he had little memory of who she was. Despite his effect on her before, under dim lighting and lowered inhibitions, she still understood this was a devastating position for him to be in. And while the rest of the town may have been convinced he was untrustworthy, Emma was not (and neither was her father). Being appropriate was a top priority.

“Mr. Jones, good morning,” David greeted first, shaking his hand firmly. 

“Sheriff Nolan.” Killian nodded collapsing his umbrella and sticking it on a coat hook to dry. 

“I don’t believe you were introduced yesterday but this is my deputy sheriff, you remember my daughter, Emma?” her father gestured toward her with nonchalance and she watched realization washed over Killian’s face.  
“Miss Nolan.” His blue eyes drank her in, the woman he had seen at The Rabbit Hole who had turned dismissed him, the sheriff’s daughter. 

“Mr. Jones, it's been a while,” she smiled, keeping her composure. He looked a little worse for wear, evidence of last night but still he returned her smile (however forced it was). 

“Pleasure.” His grip on her hand was terse at best but there was period of lingering before they were no longer touching. It did not go unnoticed by her and neither did the look he continued to give her. His blue eyes were searching, she did her best not to turn red. For a brief moment it felt like they were the only two in the room.

The other members of the office shuffling in as they did daily broke her out of her hypnosis. No. She and Killian Jones were not the only two in the room, far from it. Neil caught her eye as he breezed in tossing her a friendly smile she accepted.

“Mr. Jones if you’ll follow Emma, she’s going to ask you a few questions before your brother arrives.” David said reminding Emma of why Killian was there in the first place. Because it sure as hell wasn’t to make eyes at her in the middle of the office.

Sitting down in the conference room made this seem more like a business meeting than an investigation. However, Emma was a shark in this environment. She was good at reading people and she knew it. This was why David had been so surprised at her absence yesterday. Questioning people was her specialty.

However today her client was far different than anyone she had ever been around. He was not some small town person who had never seen the outskirts of Storybrooke. He was not someone who had skipped out on parking tickets or was caught speeding through main street or didn’t pay their rent. And she was now very aware that they truly were the only two in the room. 

“No lawyer today?” she teased. 

“She’ll be here in a bit when my brother arrives.” He was colder with her now, that much was immediately clear to Emma. She could read his face taunting her, like he could handle her until his lawyer arrived. It threw her off a bit. Her limited time with him thus far had been… confusing. 

“I would like to start with your personal recap of the event that transpired on the night of September 16, 1997?” she started, regaining some of the confidence you could usually find in her voice.

“As it has been so long my memory is a bit foggy, you can imagine, Miss Nolan.” His blue eyes bore into her again. “But from what I can recall I was 17 years old, I had been gone for most of the night. When I arrived at home nothing looked amiss from the outside.” Emma took brief notes in a yellow notebook as he spoke. “The house lights were on so I assumed my parents were home. I walked upstairs to go to my bedroom and that was when I saw them.” Killian shifted in his seat, a clear sign of his discomfort with the topic. “I saw my mother first. And then my father.”

Emma felt a slight pang of sadness when he referenced being the first one to find them. She couldn’t even imagine coming home to her parents dead. “And where exactly had you been all night during the time they were presumably stabbed?”

“My parents were having another one of their rows. I could barely take it at that point so I left and drove around for a few hours.” 

“And there was no one who could have accounted for this?” Emma pressed. “No one you were with at the time?” 

“No.” He knew what it sounded like. He knew it was a bull shit alibi if you could even call it that. But at the same time Emma did not entirely dismiss his claims as false. “Isn’t this all already on record? Why bother with the formality?” 

“I tend to like finding my own answers, Mr. Jones.” She held his gaze confidently as if to convey she wasn’t someone he could dismiss. She had dated enough assholes to know the mentality of a powerful man, the impression that they were above things they’d rather not deal with. He was someone used to getting his way “May I continue? Or did you want to ask your own questions?” 

He had met his match. And seemingly retreated, waving his hand toward her urging her to continue. 

“Was there anyone who would have wanted to send this letter? Anyone who harbored resentment for your family?” Emma held up the letter. David had told Killian and Liam about it the day before. 

“With all due respect Miss Nolan, I have spent the past twenty years trying to forget this town and the people in it. No. There is no one that comes to mind when I think of who would drag my family through the mud again.” His tone was not friendly. She had struck a nerve. Again. The tension between them was building until the conference room door opened and in walked Detective Humbert, Liam Jones, and their lawyer Regina. Emma did not realize she had been holding her breath but she felt a sigh escape as the other three joined them. 

“Everything all right in here, Em?” Graham asked taking the seat beside her. His face was friendly. She smiled and nodded at him, relieved to have someone else in the room. 

“Okay, let’s go over a few things,” Regina started bringing them all to attention. The woman gave off a cold demeanor not unlike her client. She did know how to command a room, Emma would give her that. 

She turned back to face the people on the other side of the table. Her gaze went directly to Killian and caught him quickly look down before her eyes completely met his. 

 

A week and a half went by with little progress. Friday morning Emma arrived at the station earlier than everyone else. She had agreed to come in early to prepare for the brief meeting the team would be having to provide updates on developments in the ten days since things had resumed. She was frustrated and had little to report other than a second, albeit very frustrating, one on one sit down with Killian Jones Thursday morning. 

_He was not cooperating with her. After having to be far from his home in London, walking around this town of people who suspected the worst of him he was tense and frustrated. He was taunting her. The initial lure towards him when he had arrived a week and a half ago had deteriorated quickly and her patience was wearing thin._

_“Answer the question.” Emma pulled all her strength to keep from shouting at him from across the table, throwing her pen down onto her tablet._

_“I don’t have an answer for you, love.” The smug look on his face sent Emma over the edge, she didn’t miss the incorporation of the word ‘love’. However she did not take it as an endearment in the slightest. Emma stood up from her seat and walked toward the door, pacing._

_“I need cooperation or I can’t do my job.” She could feel the eyes of her coworkers through the glass paned walls of the room they were in._

_“And what about what I need?” now it was his turn to stand from the table, frustrated._

_“What do you need, Mr. Jones, please, enlighten me?” the inflection in her voice only antagonized him. Her blood was boiling underneath her skin. Was that entirely his fault? Probably not, but he was using her as the point of all his frustrations too. His eyes dug into her. They held their blue tone but had darkened in a way she could not ignore. He was fuming._

_“What I need is to return to my life.” There was a hint of defeat in his otherwise confident voice as he brushed past her only to leave out the door without another word._

_Everyone in the office was staring at her. It was highly likely they had heard and seen all of it. Emma put her face in her hands and leaned against the glass door. She needed a few moments before she could return to her desk._

_When she did her father was right by her side in seconds._

_“I know he isn’t the most accommodating man but you have to level with him.” He kneeled down to meet her eyes. She was angry, teeming with frustration, and why? Because she was doing her job the best way she knew how and it was not enough. “He needs to trust you, Em. You of all people should know that trust doesn’t come easily. You can’t demand it.”_

_He was right. Of course he was right, he always was. If the situation were reversed she wouldn’t give anything away either. She rarely trusted anyone, it seemed he was just as closed off as she was. For this to work, not only did he have to trust her, but Emma also had to feel the same respect toward Killian._

Emma stopped dead in her tracks when noticed a white envelope tucked in the door hinges. She looked around to see if there was a sign of who had left it, but knew she would see nothing. This person did not want to be caught. She snagged the envelope with the sleeve of her shirt to not leave or impact any prints before opening the door. Inside she waited for her father and Detective Graham to arrive before she opened the letter. She sealed it in an air tight bag and brought it to a windowless cinder block room in the back of the building where evidence went before being further investigated.  
When David and Graham arrived they gathered to open the letter. Similar to the last time it was entirely typed save for a signature at the bottom that was in no way legible. This note was far less clear than its predecessor. It simply read: 

**What is found within had never come to light  
** **Trapped inside a hidden space**  
**It awaits out of sight.**

**The key to solving the mysteries of the departed,  
Lies in the place this very mess started. ******


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all. Thank you so much for all of the feedback I have been getting. I was very nervous to even post this story, though it is something I've had in my head for a while. I love hearing from people, so once again thank you! This chapter is a bit longer (almost 5000+ words), and they will continue to get longer as things go. I own nothing. All rights to OUAT.

Later that morning, Emma found herself at the Jones’ crumbling estate flanked by her team. It could have only been easily assumed that the letter they received this morning meant to go here. **“Lies in the place this very mess started”** the last few words of the riddle imprinted in her brain. There was little argument from everyone as to whether or not the note had meant the mansion. However, Emma had a feeling the location was the easy part. Scouring the ruins of a 7000 square foot palace… maybe would be a bit less obvious. Nevertheless it was a good start, it was some sort of lead and it got her out of the office. Perhaps a different perspective was what she needed to break through the roadblock in her brain. Emma hated not making progress. 

“Emma, Robin and I can take the basement first. Neal, David, and Ruby try the main level. The remainder of my team will take the bedrooms on the second floor.” Graham lightly gave directions. He had brought five agents with him today to help with the searching. The more people the better. They had a lot of ground to cover. Overall, Graham seemed to be trepidacious about stepping on anyone’s toes, though David had all but told him everyone was to listen to when the detective gave orders.  
“Sounds good. If anyone finds anything just radio in,” David waved the little black radio in the air with his latex glove covered fingers. He was far more optimistic than Emma. 

She looked to Graham and gave him a slight smile, she tried to be supportive of him. He had made a conscious effort to have her back ever since he had arrived. Sitting next to her while she questioned people, going for coffee runs with her when it would be a late night at the office for everyone, he had even brought in several giant bulletin boards for her to map out her visuals of the case. 

_“We have a massive board at my office in Boston. It helps lay everything out. I’m a visual person myself.” He had said to her the morning he brought the boards in. They were simple but effective. She made use of them rather quickly and the rest of the office had taken to utilizing them as well._

“What do you suspect it is we’re looking for?” Graham asked her as they made their way inside the house. He wasn’t in his usual suit today, he had worn casual jeans, a gray leather jacket and boots. She remembered the first time they met. Here. At this house, and how she immediately noticed how professionally he was dressed. He was different now. It wasn’t a bad thing. 

“I wish I knew,” she regarded crossing the threshold to the foyer. A grand and lofty space, ruined by time and secrets. 

Emma, Graham and Robin took the basement quickly. It was likely that they could find what they were looking for in the basement as the letter had mentioned a hidden space. Lots of basements hid secrets people didn’t want to get out. Did Emma think this most recent clue would reveal the identity of the murderer? No. She could only imagine it was one of many pieces of the puzzle that would be coming together. 

They scoured the basement while the rest of the team took over the main floor and second floor. It was a tiring task. The house itself was massive and the basement spanned the entire floorplan. It was half finished, it appeared as though the basement was under construction during the time of the murder and then never completed. The finished portion was significantly less creepy than the dark crevices of the unfinished half. Despite overhead lighting the room still felt dim and dark. Most of the construction equipment had been left behind and laid in this half. Emma and Robin stepped carefully over plywood stacks to get to the rows of shelves lining the far wall. 

“This could take hours.” He remarked, taking a box to sift through. “What is it do you think we should exactly be on the lookout for?” 

“I can’t say that I have any idea. Something not obvious. Perhaps something that could have been missed years ago during the first investigation.” She said in an uncertain voice as she also grabbed a box to begin looking through, wishing she had a better answer. 

The two worked through box after box and scoured the walls for any kind of evidence. Of course this had all been done years ago but there was always a chance something subtle went unseen. Especially in a home this large. 

“Any luck you two?” Graham shouted from the other end of the room, he had taken to sorting through some old filing cabinets. Emma wondered if there would be anything in there worth noting. Would she know when she found it? 

“None. All just a bunch of old christmas decorations and school projects.” Robin yelled back. His hair fell over his forehead and he let out a heavy breath. Hours had gone by and they were growing tired. 

“Maybe we should call it a day. It’s after 8 in the evening now.” Graham walked over to where the two were sorting. “We can come back on Monday. With a fresh take.” 

Emma didn’t really want to stop searching but she knew the rest of her team did, and she didn’t want people missing anything important if they were too used to seeing the Jones’ possessions, making judgement calls on what was meaningful and what wasn’t. 

“Sounds good. Let’s round up the others.” Emma responded, finally standing from where she sat on the concrete floor. Her knees cracked a bit as she rose up but she lent a hand to help out Robin who was struggling himself. He smiled, thankful. 

“Any luck you three?” Ruby asked as soon as the whole group had reconnected in front of the house. It was dark outside, something Emma hadn’t even noticed being in the basement all day. 

“None.” Emma shrugged. She was disappointed. But there was no way this would be easy. She knew that she just hoped her team knew that as well. She couldn’t afford to lose a single one of them. 

“How about we all go for a drink or something?” the brunette suggested. Judging by the response of the rest of the people gathered in the driveway they were all on board. She however was not. 

“You guys go, I think I’m just going home to Henry. He’s been alone almost every night this week.” 

An exaggerated ‘awww’ went through the group. As they teased her about not coming to The Rabbit Hole with them. 

“Okay. Well if you change your mind, meet us later?” Ruby twisted to nudge her friend on the shoulder, a quiet gesture of support no one else seemed to notice. 

Everyone piled into their respective cars, tired from the long day and headed off. The only two remaining were Emma and Graham, who had offered to drive her back to the station to pick up her car she had left there this morning. 

“Well, thanks for the ride,” Emma said as she was about to get out of his car once they pulled up next to her yellow bug. 

“Emma, wait…” he touched her arm lightly, the first of any physical contact between them. “Would you like to grab coffee with me tomorrow? In the morning perhaps?” 

Her face started to fall a little, looking at the very handsome detective and knowing she couldn’t possibly accept his offer. It hurt her a little. He was awfully charming, and did she mention handsome? He had been nothing short of lovely to her but it just was not in her instinct to go. To try it. 

“I’m sorry. I have plans with my mom tomorrow.” Which was not a lie. But his face had started to fall a bit. “Maybe another time?” 

“Yeah, okay. Another time would be good.” The smile returned to his face at the thought of the chance at another time. Though he and Emma both knew it was probably unlikely. Still, she grabbed his hand right before he released from her arm, and gave it a light squeeze hoping he understood. Then she got out of his car and climbed into her own, allowing herself to be alone with her thoughts for a while before she inevitably drove home to Henry. 

After a disappointing day of searching Emma spent her Friday night at home watching movies with Henry. She had declined her invitation to meet the rest of the investigation team at the bar for a few drinks. All she wanted to do was curl up under a blanket and spend time with her son. 

Their very intense Star Wars marathon had ended around 1 am with Emma waking on the couch to realize they had both fallen asleep. Henry looked so peaceful tucked into one of the big arm chairs in their movie room. It was once a dining room but Emma had chosen to fill the space with oversized couches and chairs, complete with a massive tv. It was easily the room she and her son spent the most time in. Who needs a formal dining room anyway? 

She tried to leave the room without waking him but as she shut off the tv Henry stirred. 

“W-what time is it?” he asked groggily, his eyes not even entirely open yet. 

“It’s late, just go back to sleep.” 

“No, I want to sleep in my bed.” He grumbled before he stood and tripped a bit over his own foot. Emma smiled and reached out her hand to stabilize him. Then she slowly led the way to the stairs making sure he wouldn’t fall again. 

By the time they reached the upstairs hallway Henry was mostly lucid. 

“Mom?” he turned before entering his bedroom. 

“What’s up?” 

“You’ll figure it out.” He smiled, doing his best to ease her ever-racing mind. Emma wasn’t generally a feelings person but Henry was an absolute exception. “You’re the smartest person I know.” 

Emma softened and looked down at her feet almost embarrassed that her mood lately had made such an impression on Henry. “Thanks, kid. Get some rest. Love you.” 

“Love you.” With that he shut his door, leaving Emma standing in the hall feeling a hell of a lot better than she had felt the past two weeks. 

 

The next morning Emma found herself in the local bookstore scanning for something to occupy her mind. Her mother had called her two days ago insisting she take the morning to spend some time with her. Emma saw right through it and realized her father had most likely told her mother how strung out she had been. But Emma agreed to go anyway, figuring book shopping and a quiet lunch were not the most awful ways to spend a Saturday. 

“I’m going to get some coffee, do you want any?” Mary Margaret asked Emma as she scanned the latest in the biography section. 

“I would love some.” Emma replied. She never turned down coffee. 

“Extra cinnamon?” 

“Sure.” It felt effortless spending time with her mother. They had a good relationship and since Emma did not keep many friends of her own, she found that as she got older she appreciated Mary Margaret as both a mom and a friend. 

Not seeing anything she liked, Emma made her way over to the fiction section, hoping to find a book that would carry her away (at least for a little while). Her dreams were short lived when she rounded the corner of a shelf to find the last person she needed to see. Killian Jones. 

He was by himself idly flipping through the pages of East of Eden. He wore jeans again, similar to the ones from that first night in The Rabbit Hole. Had she not known who he was she probably would have thought he was handsome. Probably. She could get away before he saw her. Avoid another unpleasant interaction until the next time she had to sit down with him. But instead he turned his head, noticing there was someone at the end of the shelves blatantly staring at him. Very smooth, Emma, she thought to herself. 

“Miss Nolan.” He nodded in her direction. “Can’t get away from each other, can we?” His attempt at a joke hung in the air. 

“What are you doing here?” were the words she chose to have come out of her mouth next. Instead of, well, anything polite or decent. 

“American television being bloody awful, I need something else to entertain me.” A moment of silence from him, then “and you?” 

“I’m out with my mother. Taking a bit of a break from things.” She should apologize, or at least explain herself for their last encounter. But he beat her to it. 

“I wanted to apologize for the last time we were in the same room.” He started, reaching his hand up to scratch behind his ear, something of a nervous tick he had that Emma noticed. “Being back here… under the circumstances is not pleasant for me. But that isn’t an excuse.” 

She was shocked. The past few times she had seen him he was all confidence, the I’m too good for any of this nonsense persona he played so well. Standing here, now, in this little book shop, some place neutral between the two of them, he seemed to have subdued. Even humbled. 

“I think I owe you an apology as well.” Now was her turn, Emma swallowed her pride just as he had done. “This can’t be easy for you, in order for anything to be accomplished we have to be able to be in a room together.” 

“Without biting each other’s heads off… or drunkenly approaching them in a bar.” He finished her thought. His eyes expressive and seemingly sorry for their first time interacting with each other as well. Emma read him. He was being genuine. 

“We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of at that bar.” Emma joked. A human moment now occurring between them. He smiled at her but this time it wasn’t forced. 

“Fair enough. But I pride myself on being a gentleman, and that move was not.” He responded, a bit warmer toward her now. By no means were they best friends but there was a level of understanding that had been established. An olive branch. They understood each other

“If you wouldn’t mind coming in again Monday morning. I have some things I need to talk to you about…” she did not know what his answer would be, given the last time he was at the station, “another note was delivered.” 

“I can be there.” He tensed a little at the mention of a note, imagining its morbid context she assumed, but offered her a hint of a smile. 

“Em I got your coffee they were out of cinnamon so it’s just reg-” her mother stopped beside her taking in the man not ten steps from them. 

“Mom, you remember Killian Jones?” Emma started to introduce them, not sure if that was the correct move. 

“Pleasure.” He reached for her mother’s hand and shook it before Emma could finish worrying, and he appeared as the perfect gentleman. “Forgive me my departure but I must be going, I have a conference call soon and I need to get some coffee of my own.” 

He was fleeing, before Mary Margaret could bust out any of the usual pleasantries that came with seeing him. The ‘oh I’m so sorry’ speech he probably got all the time now that he had returned. Emma used to do the same thing when she was pregnant. She would run into someone she knew and then bolt before they could make any of the usual bull shit comments to her. ‘Will you be staying in school?’ or ‘What are you planning to do for work?’

“I’ll see you, Monday?” he asked before rushing off, meeting Emma’s eyes and quirking his dark eyebrow in such a way that she felt something in her stomach, what she was not entirely sure. But it wasn’t unpleasant. 

“See you Monday.” She replied maintaining composure as she realized how well that went compared to her last meeting with him. At least they had cleared some of the air. Maybe now she could do her job and produce some actual results. 

“Well he grew up nicely,” her mother’s voice broke the silence. 

“Mom!” Emma nudged Mary Margaret, hoping Killian was far enough away he hadn’t heard that. 

 

Later, after Emma had sufficiently maxed out her monthly book budget, she and her mother sat down at Granny’s diner for lunch. The old restaurant filled with people from the town having a leisurely Saturday lunch. Emma looked around wondering if one of the people in this room could have been behind the notes, or even worse the person who had been involved in the Jones murder in the first place. Were they the same person? Guilty of the crime and playing a sick, twisted game they knew they could win? Her father had told her not to rule anyone out. So that was exactly what she was trying to do. 

She had made an attempt to casually bring up how Graham asked her to meet him for coffee because she wanted her mother’s opinion on the idea. However the question launched into a whole new conversation. 

“Did you ever think maybe it’s time to start dating again?” Mary Margaret took the latest conversational development as a smooth transition into deeper territory. 

“I go on dates.” Emma tried to defend herself, not doing a great job. 

“Emma…” her mother eyed her from across the table. “Is that what you call those?” 

“I have dated plenty of people. You know me though, no one’s ever good enough to bring home to meet Henry.” It was true. Being a mother, it was hard not think that way. It was hard not to picture every single guy she had dinner with meeting Henry (and immediately feeling anxious at the thought). Her last real, long term boyfriend had been Neal. They had stayed together throughout all of Emma’s pregnancy, despite being 18 years old at the time. But realized shortly after he was born that they were better as friends. It broke her to lose him in that way after sharing such a monumental experience, but it was for the best interest of Henry. She wanted nothing more than for Henry to be able to have his parents get along and be in the same room. The men after Neal had all been replaceable, disposable. But Emma liked it that way, it was what worked for her. It was was kept her from being hurt again. 

“Emma. You and Neal have done an amazing job raising Henry.” She reached across the table for her daughter’s hand. “Truly. I have never seen two people co-parent so well. But he’s thirteen now. And he would want you to be happy.” 

“Happiness doesn’t necessarily come from finding a man.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” Mary Margaret released Emma’s hand, retreating from the contact and the conversation. “Just, promise me you’ll stay open to it.” 

“I will.” Emma smiled. Her mother meant well. “Now can I eat my grilled cheese?” 

The remainder of lunch was uneventful, her mother was clearly trying to take Emma’s mind off of things. Which she greatly appreciated, she loved her mother but the only thing that would truly ease Emma’s ever wandering thoughts would be reaching a conclusion. Whatever that conclusion may be. 

Emma waved good-bye to her mother as they parted ways in front of Granny’s. Their bellies now satisfied and full with grilled cheese and onion rings. She walked over to Gold’s Pawnbroker and Antiques Dealer, the shop owned by Neal’s father. Robert Gold. Henry wasn’t old enough to work a real first job, so his grandfather offered him a job helping him around his shop on weekends to make a little money. It was better than Henry sleeping until noon she supposed. 

“Hi Emma, looking for Henry?” Belle greeted her as she walked into the dimly lit shop. Robert and Belle (despite her being much younger than him) had been married a few years ago. Truthfully she wasn’t much older than Emma and Neal, but she made Mr. Gold happy so Neal was as on board with it as he could be. Especially after Neal’s actual mother leaving them when he was young. Emma suspected the father and son never really recovered from the shock of that. 

“Hi Belle, do you ever just take a day off?” Emma joked. Between working at the police station and helping her husband in the shop she seemed to be busy constantly. 

“I’ll go grab Henry he’s downstairs taking inventory.” The bright eyed brunette smiled at Emma before waltzing off to some corner of the building where her son was. 

“Thanks.” She smiled. The woman was charming, she couldn’t fault Neal’s father for that. 

“Hello there, Emma.” In walked Neal’s father, the unmistakable sound of a cane aiding him wherever he went. He wore a black suit and black tie as was customary. He never wore anything less to run his shop. “Neal tells me the Jones case has reopened.” 

“It certainly has thrown us for a loop. Not the kind of thing we’re used to dealing with at our little Storybrooke police department.” 

“No, I don’t suppose it would be.” He shifted with his cane. “Best of luck.” 

Of all of the things people had said to her in the past two weeks since the case had reopened, not one of them had ever wished her luck. She wondered why the statement stuck out to her so much. It wasn’t an outright insult… though it wasn’t a compliment either.

Emma was saved from having to form a response when Belle and Henry entered the room, her son making his way over to her getting ready to leave. 

“Thanks so much again for letting him hang around here.” Emma ruffled her son’s hair smiling at him. 

“It’s no problem at all. Especially now since I can’t do much of the heavy lifting myself.” Mr. Gold remarked. The man was a bit odd, he always had been but he had a soft spot for Henry. 

“Bye, grandpa. Bye Belle.” Henry waved as they headed out the door, Emma gave a little wave and continued to try to shake off her one on one interaction with Robert as they walked together back to their home. 

 

That night in bed Emma settled in with a cup of tea and one of the books she had purchased at the store earlier. A collection of works by Edgar Allan Poe. She whipped through several short stories and poems as she sipped her tea, enjoying her alone time. 

It was after midnight before she realized how tired she was, one more story, she told herself. The Cask of Amontillado. She had remembered reading it in middle school, a bit dark and over her head at the time. While Emma loved literature now back in the day she was not quite as open to the works of Poe and Dickinson and the like. 

The story was just as dark as she remembered. A tale of revenge being extracted in the Catacombs. A chill ran down Emma’s spine as she read the tale of Montresor luring his “friend” away from the Carnival, getting him drunk, and chaining him to a wall. Only to wall up the man behind brick and mortar. It was a gruesome idea. 

_That night Emma dreamt of herself walking through the old Jones mansion. However instead of being in the crumbling state of disrepair it was in now, it had been restored to its former glory. The lights were on, allowing her to navigate more easily._

__

__

_“Hello?” she called out. Only the sound of her own voice echoed. “Is anyone here?”_

_She made her way down the hall on the right side of the double staircase. Something was pulling her toward Mr. Jones’ office. She followed._

_Inside it looked stately, the dark wood bookshelves lining the back wall. A high leather backed chair sitting behind the mahogany desk central to the room. Unlike her father’s office there were no pictures, there was nothing personal._

_Whatever force was pulling her led her toward the wall to her left. It was paneled and she looked around as if to say “what now?”_

_She hit the wall and immediately a panel fell out, revealing what looked to be some sort of safe. Emma began twisting the lock trying to figure out the combination. She twisted and twisted nothing working. Her fingers grew tired and the lock dissolved in her hands. It fell into a dark abyss below as did the rest of the room._

She awoke drenched in a cold sweat. Her dream had felt almost real. Looking out the window next to her bed she could see that it was just barely light out, the early morning just beginning to fill her bedroom with natural rays of the sun. That was one of the reasons she loved her bedroom so much, you could always see the sunrise as it began to peak over the trees. A feature she wasn’t appreciating so much now. All that was on her mind was getting back to the Jones house and finding what the most recent letter had sent her to find. 

“Neal. Wake up. We need to go back to the house.” Emma had chosen to call Neal first despite him being historically cranky in the mornings. She could trust him. 

“Em. Are you crazy?” His morning voice came through the speaker. “It’s seven am. Have you talked to Humbert about this?” 

“I’ll call Graham on the way. But I just have a….” she didn’t know what she had “I just need to search the place again, without a bunch of people from his team getting in my way.” 

“All right. Give me a couple of minutes.” He grumbled, she could hear him slowly rolling out of bed. She knew he would be the best person to call first. He would be unhappy because it was the morning but most of the time he trusted Emma’s instinct more than she did. 

“Okay. I’ll pick you up.” She hung up before he could argue any further. 

 

The office of Brennan Jones had laid untouched for years. A prominent businessman of his time, there were many documents scattered about that hadn’t been tended to since his untimely death. The room looked almost the same as it had in her dream with the exception of a small detail she hadn’t noticed before. Though overall there appeared to be no personal items, one distinct object caught her eye before she even crossed the threshold. On top of the desk sat a pencil cup holder made of misshapen clay that had been haphazardly colored in red and black paint. It looked to be the work of a toddler. The kind of gifts that filled her parents’ home. Emma had given David and Mary Margaret countless handmade treasures that were still displayed on every shelf and table. This one in Brennan Jones’ office was the only one of its kind. The only remotely personal item. 

Emma picked it up with her gloved hand and turned it over. Carved into the bottom of the now dried clay jar was “K.J. 1986”. 

“Is that what we came here for?” Detective Graham was not thrilled as he spoke. Whether his mood was because she had called him to drag him out of bed on a Sunday morning on a ‘gut feeling’ or because she had never called him about going out for coffee, was neither here nor there. 

“No. Sorry, I just…” she set the pencil holding jar back on the desk. “I need to see something.” 

Her father and Neal were also there. David wasn’t excited to be out of bed and back to work on a Sunday but he was a workaholic like his daughter, so his mood changed quickly. 

She made her way to the side of the room from her dream. She could not have possibly told them the reason for their coming here was a secret passage dream induced by an Edgar Allan Poe book, she would sound out of her mind. But as she looked at the paneling of the wall she realized it was entirely possible that there was something behind here. She pressed her ear to the wood and slowly slid down the wall, hitting it with her fist to listen for hollow spots. Halfway down the wall she heard a light rattle. It was ever so faint but it was coming from inside the panels. She knocked again, absolutely certain that to the other three men in the room she looked insane. 

The rattling became closer and closer as she moved to the left, hitting the wood until finally she heard a pop. Emma retreated from the wall. Nothing had happened. But as she looked to her left she realized one of the panels had moved slightly out of place with the others. She grabbed a nearby letter opener on the desk and pried the piece of wood from its false placement. It proved to be a bit difficult as the panel had been unmoved for nearly twenty years. Neal came over to help her and they finally removed the piece far enough to reveal what appeared to be a locked cabinet. 

“Can you still pick a lock?” she looked at her Neal with a smile, he was the one who had taught her how to pick locks back when they were teenagers. A skill that now came in handy as a cop… and a mother. 

“Allow me.” He reached into his pocket for a small black pouch that contained tools for such a task. 

David and Graham had now made their way over, if either of them wondered what in the fuck had just happened they had decided against saying anything. The three all watched expectantly as Neal twisted the sharp tools in the lock. After a few tense moments they heard the click and it popped open. 

Emma opened the door to the cabinet and looked inside. Not much was in the hidden cabinet save for a document folded into three and shoved in an envelope in the back corner. Whatever the note from the mysterious person had wanted them to find, Emma was certain this was it. She opened the document and scanned the words. 

“Em what is it?” David asked after a few seconds of silence. 

“It’s the draft of Brennan’s will. It was never officiated. But it’s dated three days before they were murdered.” Emma gulped. “It names Killian and Liam as the sole heirs to the entire Jones fortune.” 

Monday morning came quickly, and the whole office was in a bit of a frenzy. Research had been hard at work determining the details of the drafted will. Was it a document that had only been seen by a few? How had it gone unnoticed before? What did Brennan’s actual will on file from twenty years ago say? In addition, the note the office had received giving them the hint of where to find the very important document had been sent off to Graham’s office in Boston for further DNA testing. Emma had a feeling it would come back clean just as the first one had, but still protocol required it be analyzed. 

She sat in the conference room with Graham and David on either side of her, facing Killian, Liam and Regina their lawyer, Emma was almost fully recovered from the last time she had been in this environment. It made things easier knowing she and Killian had reached some level of understanding at the bookstore on Saturday, at least one that would allow them to have a conversation. 

“Miss Nolan, neither one of my clients had any idea this will even existed. It’s a draft. And it’s been hidden under lock and key.” She slammed her pen down on her legal pad. “Not even Brennan’s financial advisor had any record of it.” 

“You understand how it looks though? Correct? A will is mysteriously drafted three days before Mr. and Mrs. Jones are brutally murdered, leaving everything to those two in the event of their death.” Emma always felt like the Jones’ fancy lawyer was talking down to her. She was a highly sought after attorney. It seemed as though she had come along with Killian’s office in London. Emma idly wondered how well the two actually knew each other… and then caught herself. She bit back any further comment to Regina Mills, not wanting to explode again. 

“I understand but until you have further indication that that document is incriminating to Liam and Killian you have no argument here.” Regina stood to convey that she was done. “The money and the assets haven’t been touched since the death of Brennan Jones. It’s clear that if that had been the motive, we would know it.” 

She wasn’t wrong. As much as it would be easy to point fingers at the brothers, not a single cent had been claimed or moved by either of them. They would need something else in order for that to hold up in court. Besides.. Emma wasn’t wholly convinced the person writing the cryptic letters was anywhere near done with them. Over an hour had gone by in this room and no progress was made for either side. Emma looked to her father who appeared tired. Between today and yesterday he hadn’t had much sleep. Killian had remained mostly quiet, letting his lawyer do most of the talking. But the few times Emma managed to make eye contact with him he looked a bit pained. She couldn’t imagine her face looked any more relaxed.

“Let us know if anything else comes up.” Liam stood next to Regina. He remained overall silent during conversations, only speaking when asked a direct question. He was kinder though than his brother and usually finished his responses with an understanding smile. 

“We will. Thank you for coming in.” Graham stated as he stood, signaling to Emma and David that that was enough for today. The three of them led the way to the hallway outside the conference room.  
Graham and David made a point to shake everyone’s hand as they passed. Emma held back a little, still standing close to the doorway. She felt someone brush against her arm, only the briefest of touches before grabbing her hand to shake it when she realized it was Killian Jones who was now ever so slightly leaning into her while the others were distracted with their departing pleasantries. She took in an audible breath at the contact.  
“Wait five minutes and then follow me.” He whispered directly into her ear in a low register only she could hear, sending a tingle down her spine. And somewhere else as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be patient. A LOT more with our favs coming in Chapter 6 :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Thanks so much for dropping by to read. This chapter is about 6000 words and they will continue to get longer! Thanks to everyone who has left comments and kudos and feedback. It warms my heart when I get notifications about it. I hope you all continue to enjoy as the story gets deeper! I own nothing all credit to OUAT

Emma didn’t know why she was doing this. She didn’t know why she had waited exactly five minutes before excusing herself for “something at home”. No one seemed that alarmed by it and she left relatively unhindered. Now she was in her bug, tailing behind a car much nicer and more expensive than her own. A car belonging to Killian Jones. Who no one knew she was meeting. And was seemingly taking her outside the town line. She wasn’t sure where he was leading her to. They had left the Storybrooke town limit about 3 miles ago and her knowledge of the surrounding forest was limited. She looked at the clock on her dash, it was getting close to lunchtime and she was starving. 

A few more feet down the road and Killian pulled off into a park area that had a small gravel lot. She drove up next to him and threw the bug into park, quickly jumping out to keep up with Killian. Who was already walking the other way. 

“Hey!” she yelled at him, he didn’t turn around to look at her.His long black trench coat dramatically flying behind him like a cape. Jesus. Back to square one, she thought. Though he had been the one who had led her here. There must be something he was trying to get at. “Killian. Wait! My god can I know what’s going on?” 

“I need to take you somewhere.” He muttered over his shoulder, still not stopping to explain what was going on. “Just trust me.” 

There was that word again. Trust. What had he ever done for him to have earned her trust? Nothing. Yet she was still following him blindly. Deeper into the woods they went on an unmarked path. The heavy tree cover made everything indistinguishable and she was pretty sure if she was left to her own devices it would take her an hour to find her way out. But he appeared confident in where he was going, his black leather dress shoes slopping through the dirt path. 

They reached a bit of a clearing after a few minutes of walking. Through a tiny passage Emma could see a dip in the landscape that led to a creek. It was quiet back here, one could almost forget there was a road on the other side of things. Killian walked toward the creek and onto a small footbridge that spanned the width. It arced in the middle giving a better view of all below. 

“What am I looking at?” Emma asked when it still wasn’t entirely clear what in hell she was doing out here. 

“Do you see that pile of rubble over there, between the two pine trees?” he lifted his wrist and pointed in the direction of a cluster of foliage. A heap of metal that had deteriorated over time sat abandoned. 

“It was a car.” He sighed and turned so his back was to the rail of the bridge. He leaned into it and crossed his arms over the wood. “It belonged to my father, once upon a time. He drove it off the road.” 

Emma looked up at him to gauge what was going through his head. He was tentative with his words. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely convinced he should be talking to her about this. He continued though. 

“He was drunk the night it happened. My mother picked him up at two in the morning, he barely remembered a thing.” He met her eyes with his. “My father was an alcoholic. A nasty, nasty drunk. It was kept under wraps. No one in the family ever spoke of it. My mother went to great lengths to cover it. But I guess there’s no sense in that now.” 

“I didn’t know.” Emma felt undeserving of this kind of information. It was so personal and all being laid at her feet, of all people. “I’m sorry.” 

“I did not tell you this so I could have your pity I told you so you could understand,” he took a deep breath and faced her directly. “My father was not in the right mind for most of my life. He made irrational decisions. He did unethical things. I haven’t the slightest idea why he changed his will and stored it in a wall. But I would venture that it had something to do with a deep bottle of rum and a fight with my mother.” 

“So you don’t think there’s anything more underneath what we discovered in that will?” 

“I don’t know what I think….” he furrowed his brow and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. “What I know is I want to help.” 

“Help?” 

“I want to find out what happened to my parents, Miss Nolan. I want to help. For my mother.” It almost looked like there was a layer of tears forming behind his eyes at the mention of his mother but he held it together. “I will do whatever is needed.”

This was all unexpected for Emma. She had never imagined he would lead her out here, give her a glimpse into perhaps one of the most private parts of his youth, and then offer his assistance. Not in a thousand years. 

“You and your mother were close, I take it?” Emma asked after a few moments of silence. 

“Extremely.” He was tense. As if his entire body had a rod through it. He wanted to figure out what had happened to them, that much was clear. But he wanted it on a greater scale than Emma and her team did. It made her want to find out what had happened even more than she already did. To bring some sort of closure to this horrific chapter that had remained open for so long. 

“I’ll need cooperation… from you I mean.” Emma offered. “And what about your brother?” 

“Liam’s in a different position than I.” He crossed his arms over his chest. Body language resistant toward her though he was being so honest. “He has a family now. A wife, a child. He has something to go back to at the end of it all. For me I have… I...”

“You have kept to yourself.” Emma finished for him. Hoping he wouldn’t get angry at her for doing so. It was only because he seemed to struggle so much to find his own words, but to her it seemed clear. “I understand.” 

“I would prefer to not be involved in the entirety of the circus that is the investigation.” He turned toward her ever so briefly but still she noticed. “If there’s any way for me to just, if you and I could just discuss things more privately. For that I would be grateful.” 

“Okay.” She didn’t know exactly what she was agreeing to. His words a jumble in her head. But she thought maybe she had just reached some sort of understanding with this complex man. 

“Thank you, Miss Nolan.” 

“Please,” she took a half step closer to him but he didn’t move away. “From now on you can just call me Emma.” 

 

When Emma returned to the office an hour later, no one seemed any the wiser to where she had been. Part of her wanted to tell her father and Graham what had happened. But another part of her wanted to keep the moment private. She didn’t want to share it with anyone else just yet. Not until she fully processed in her head what the next move was. Ruby grabbed her arm and ushered her away from the main area of the office, to where the coffee maker sat. Emma could smell another round being brewed as she looked at her best friend. Who looked like she was about to lay it on thick. 

“Where were you?” Ruby asked not beating around the bush. 

“I had a thing…” Emma paused. “A thing at home. I told everyone.” 

“A thing at home?” Of course Ruby wasn’t buying it but who would? 

“It was nothing important.” 

“I watched you follow him, Emma.” Her best friend met her eyes, deep chocolate brown on green. “You don’t have to tell me where you went but is there… is there something going on between you two?” 

“What?!” 

“Don’t play dumb, Em. You two are at each other’s throats one minute and can’t stop eyeing each other the next.” 

“Trust me when I say there is nothing going on between me and Killian Jones other than this case.” Emma was mad now. How had her best friend waited to corner her like this? Over nothing. “He wanted to talk to me about his father. In private.” 

Ruby didn’t say anything else. The truth Emma had spoken seemed to suit her friend. 

“I didn’t mean to attack you. You know I don’t really ever judge but, just be careful with him Emma.” 

“There’s nothing to be careful of. He agreed to work with me on this. He just wants to know what happened to his parents.” I leveled with her and was completely honest now. Even if I wasn’t divulging the entirety of the exchange with Killian earlier, this was all she needed to know for now. This was all anyone needed to know for now. 

“Okay, okay.” Ruby backed off and went back to her desk. Emma tried to forget the conversation had happened while she continued her day mapping out the information she had come in contact with recently. She thought to herself about what Killian had said about his father. That the man was a fall-down drunk, completely unpredictable to the entire family. Was it possible that his behavior had led to what happened to the Jones’? 

A week went by quickly as Emma threw herself back into work. The several pieces of information she had been given now fueling her progress. Between the second note, the will, and her conversation with Killian she was motivated. She would figure this out. 

The conference room where she had met several times with the Jones brothers and their lawyer was now filled with Emma’s notes. Since she didn’t have a four walled office she took over the space. She had posted a large map of Storybrooke and the surrounding towns. Now that Killian had told her about his father’s car wreck, several miles from Storybrooke, she had to look outside of those bounds. How many incidents like that had been covered up by the family and never spoken of again? 

The room quickly became a hub for the investigation. The large space allowed other members of the investigation team to come in and contribute what they had found. Emma had told Belle to look into any instances from surrounding areas of drunk and disorderly conduct that had been dismissed, during the time before Brennan and Moira Jones died. 

It was clear the will had meant something. Emma could only hope that the phantom note writer was taking them on a significant path. It was all they were being guided by at this point. Additionally she couldn’t help but wonder when the next one would come. But she also knew she couldn’t sit around waiting for that day. 

“Em,” Graham knocked on one of the glass panels of the wall before walking right in. “I brought supplies.” 

He held up two to-go cups of coffee before setting one down on the table in front of where she was sitting. She offered him a smile before going back to what she had been working on. Emma had done her best to move on from him asking her on a date, hoping he understood and wouldn’t try it again. It wasn’t that the detective wasn’t handsome. He was. An absolutely gorgeous man. But that was all she felt. Nothing more. 

“I’ve started to look further into the boys.” He said, staring at his coffee cup as he twisted it in his hand. “Liam and Killian. I think there’s something more there.” 

“You what?” They had specifically discussed doing the opposite of that after David had told them of how that was a mistake made years ago that led the police force of the time to a dead end. 

“Something was clearly going on in that family, Emma. Those two know more than they let on.” 

“We aren’t supposed to focus too hard on one option.” She closed the manilla folder sitting in front of her maybe a bit too aggressively and stood from the chair. “So I will keep looking at all of them.” 

She left the room, her coffee still steaming on the table. She could have reacted better. Graham was just doing his job. It didn’t necessarily mean they had to agree on which way to take things. Maybe if she told everyone about her talk with Killian they would be on the same page as she was. Only Ruby knew Emma had followed him that day, and she hadn’t said a word to anyone else about it. She wasn’t sure the right way to do it. 

Emma caught herself thinking of the day she followed Mr. Jones into the woods. Blindly followed this man she had only recently formed a truce with. She didn’t want to admit there was maybe a bit more to why she stormed out of the conference room just now. She felt heat building beneath her skin and needed a few minutes of fresh air. 

Bursting through the front doors of the police station she found herself in the parking lot, alone. The air was cool enough to ease the tension that had been building within her. Her reaction was unexpected and a little overwhelming. After a few minutes she had calmed down to the point of being able to go back inside. Emma had work to do. 

It was the night of Henry’s school musical. Most everyone was there already. She had picked up her parents on her way, all three of them piling into the tiny yellow bug. It was a much earned night off from staying at the police station until late. Emma had to admit she wasn’t upset with the events planned for her evening. Seeing Henry in a simple school musical brought her back to earth a little bit. It was okay to be a bit of a workaholic, but being there for her son was higher up on the list than anything else. Next to her was an empty seat reserved for Neal, who was running a bit late. Several people had tried to take it but Emma made sure no one else would claim that seat but him. It was just as important to Henry that both of his parents be there. 

Not a moment later the back doors of the auditorium opened, the lights above were flickering on and off to tell people it was show time, Neal was making his way toward her. 

“Cutting it a little close are we?” she asked teasingly as he sat down next to her. 

“Blame my father if you have to.” Neal shrugged out of his coat, still seemingly frazzled. 

“What did the big bad wolf do this time?” she joked. 

“Twenty minutes before I was supposed to be here he made me come over to pick the lock on some old cabinets.” Neal flipped through the show program as he spoke. “It took forever, they were practically rusted shut. But he wasn’t compromising.” 

“Well, you know how your dad can be.” 

“I know. When he wants something, he wants something.” 

Before they could continue their conversation, the lights went completely off and the show was starting. It was Peter Pan. An old favorite of Emma’s. It was one of the first chapter books she had tackled and she was pretty sure she still had the ragged copy tucked into the shelves of her collection at home. The whimsical tale of a boy refusing to grow up acting as a slight departure from the chaos that now was her job, and she felt her heart become a bit lighter.

After the show, Emma, Neal, Henry and her parents went to go get ice cream. The night’s weather was uncharacteristically warm so they walked down Main Street to get there. Henry still in his lost boy costume from the show, was in a great mood. Emma couldn’t help but smile herself. She could almost pretend like they were a regular family. She Henry and Neal. Both of them seemed to be pretending the same thing. The three walked side by side on the street, laughing and joking the whole way. Even after David and Mary Margaret had headed home, the three continued their walk until they made it to Neal’s apartment. 

“Great job tonight, bud.” Neal took Henry under his arm, wrapping him in a warm hug. 

“Mom,” Henry motioned, “get over here.” 

Emma couldn’t help but join. A pang in her heart as she did. He really was pretending they were a normal and whole family. 

“See you tomorrow, Em.” Neal said throwing her a wink and a smile before unlocking the door that led to the stairs of his apartment. She nodded and smiled back, Henry waved. They began to walk their way back to where the yellow bug was parked. On the other side of the street was a figure dressed in all black. Emma tried to make out who it was but as he stepped into the dim light of the lamp post she realized it was Robert Gold. 

“Hi grandpa!” Henry yelled from across the street. The man looked completely startled, as if he had not even noticed there were two other people on the road. He politely waved back. 

“Is Neal home?” the man yelled from across the street. 

“We just left him. You should be able to catch him before he-” 

“Thank you.” Was all he said back before heading in the direction of Neal’s apartment. Emma wrapped her arm around Henry’s shoulder, almost instinctively. But continued to walk and did not say another word about the bizarre exchange with the man. The only sound on the street being the click of Mr. Gold’s cane as it hit the pavement. 

 

Tuesday night she sat alone at a table at Granny’s, feeling that she deserved an actual sit down meal for once. She didn’t invite anyone else. Henry was with Neal and the office was so busy any more she needed some time without her coworkers.

The late evening lull of Granny’s meant Emma had the place almost entirely to herself with the exception of a few stragglers at the bar eating slices of pie. It was the kind of quiet she needed. The only sound was the gentle lull of saxophone music coming from the juke box and the tap of the rain on the windows surrounding her booth. She ate her grilled cheese silently, enjoying the peace. 

The front door opened as she was mid-first bite and the bell on top dinged. A dark figure appeared behind a broken umbrella and a nearly soaked black leather jacket. She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding when she realized who it was. 

“Miss Nol- Emma.” Killian corrected himself when he caught sight of her in the near empty diner. His black hair clung to his forehead, evidence that the rain outside had picked up from a light drizzle. 

“Hi.” Was all she could say back, surprised he was even setting foot in here. She had barely seen him in a week and did not think he was all that fond of old Storybrooke haunts. “What are you doing here?” 

“I was growing rather tired of the microwaved meals I was eating in my hotel.” He was taking steps toward her, his hand going up to scratch behind his ear. Emma smiled a bit. He settled in the booth next to hers, seated so he was facing her. 

“What do you recommend?” he asked picking up the menu and quirking his eyebrow up at her. 

“The grilled cheese. It’s second to none.” She held half of hers up in the air for him to see. “With a side of onion rings.” 

“Then that is what I will have.” 

They weren’t at the same table but they were still facing each other as if they were. It was a little bit funny to Emma. He could have chosen nearly any other table in the diner, or even a stool at the bar. But instead he sat not five feet from her at an identical booth, eating an identical meal. The two fell into a comfortable silence as they enjoyed their food in peace. She sensed he hadn’t sat here to make small talk and pleasantries. She had a feeling he just needed to be near someone. Anyone. He had now been away from London, his life, his job for several weeks, having his family’s history being drudged up like yesterday’s garbage. Emma wondered if there was anyone in London he had left behind that he was perhaps longing for… someone he wanted to get back to. 

“How is it?” she asked after he had eaten a sufficient amount of grilled cheese. 

“Delicious. You weren’t wrong, love.” 

There it was again. Love. A word Killian used liberally in everyday life, a word Emma had not used intimately for a very, very, very long time. She felt a bit of a blush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks. She hoped he didn’t notice, if he did he said nothing. Just continued to eat his sandwich and flip through the newspaper he had brought along with him. The lines of his face less hard than she had come to know. 

When Emma was ready to leave it was almost closing time for Granny’s. The other people in the diner had left a half an hour ago, all that remained were she and Killian. Who was now standing to leave a stack of bills on the table on top of his check. He seemed lighter right now, he wasn’t the same brooding man she had encountered the past few weeks. Given the circumstances though it made sense he was on the defense when reporting to the police station. 

“I need to start wandering into empty diners more often.” He joked. He tugged his black leather jacket over his broad shoulders. Emma looked down at her own jacket. It was of a similar style but instead of black she wore a deep red. 

“You never ate at Granny’s when you lived here?” she asked. Everyone from the town ate at the town’s diner regularly. It was the closest restaurant without jumping a town over and the food was amazing. How had he never eaten here before? 

“No. We never went out to eat at places that didn’t require a jacket and tie.” 

“Oh.” She zipped her jacket prepared to reenter the outside and be hit with the wind. “Well I’m glad you finally got to try it.” Emma looked up at him and smiled. They were standing side by side in front of Granny’s now. Painfully aware of how close he was to her. The length of his arm brushing hers lightly. Yes he was definitely different in this more casual setting. 

“Me too.” He was looking her in the eyes now, blue as the sea. They stood out against his dark hair and brows. 

“I should get back home.” She tried quickly to conjure up an excuse. “My car’s just right there.” She pointed to the bright yellow bug parallel parked right in front of the archway that led to the patio. How could anyone miss it. 

“Ah yes, the least conspicious police vehicle of all time.” 

“Hey. That car is a classic!” Emma felt a little defensive but not overly so. From the look on his smug face she could tell he was just trying to get a rise out of her. Pushing her buttons but this time in a playful way. 

“This is where I leave you then, my car is in the other direction.” He said when they reached the end of the walkway and were met with the sidewalk. 

“Good night, Mr. Jones.” She said turning to face him. 

“Killian will do.” He corrected. A smile played at his lips which she returned. A warm feeling appeared in her belly and the blush creeping up her neck again. 

“Good night, Killian. I’ll let you know if we need you to come in anymore this week.” 

He took a few steps backward, in the direction of where his car was parked. His eyes didn’t leave her first though, until she forced herself to look away and he turned his back. 

“Oh and Emma?” he called out and she looked up to find him staring at her about to get into his car. “Perhaps another time we could sit at the same table.” 

She smiled. For whatever reason it didn’t feel to her like he was insinuating a date. He wasn’t scheming towards anything. He was most likely just lonely. And stubborn. She couldn’t say she was any different than him in that respect. 

 

The rest of the week was long and uneventful. Until Thursday morning that was. Emma arrived around the same time as her father, early, to the office. She parked her bug right next to his car and they made their way in together, her handing him the coffee she had picked up on her way in. They both froze when they realized there was another envelope wedged between the door. They both knew what it meant. It was another clue, dropped in their lap. 

“I have some gloves in my car, I’ll grab it.” David said walking back to retrieve the latex gloves to not taint the DNA on the envelope if there was any. Not that there would be. There hadn’t been any trace of it on the previous notes. Absolutely no indicator of where these were coming from. 

They carefully removed the envelope and made their way into the station, following protocol and taking it to the evidence room to be opened properly. When Emma grasped onto it she felt something inside that wasn’t more paper. Whatever was in here was not a note. 

Tearing open the seal she dumped out the contents to find there was only one thing inside. A key. A small gold key with some numbers on it. She flipped it over to reveal what was imprinted on the other side. USPS. 

“Em…” David said taking in the key that had just been wrapped up and handed to them. “This is a mailbox key.” 

After meeting with the rest of the team when they arrived in the office it was discussed that the key belonged to a PO Box. At what post office they were not entirely sure yet. But it had to be relatively local. They also did not know whose name the box would be under, nor did they know what would be waiting for them inside. 

A few hours had gone by before Emma got to sneak away for a few moments. She tucked herself in a corner of the lobby to make a call. 

“Hey. We got another clue.” She spoke quietly into the receiver, hoping no one was near enough that they would be able to hear her. “Can you meet in twenty?” 

 

He had been clear that he wanted to be involved. He had explicitly told her that. So why did she feel so weird meeting Killian Jones at a coffee shop not ten minutes outside of Storybrooke? Maybe it was because she hadn’t told anyone where she was going. Maybe it’s because there was a big, fat piece of evidence hand delivered to her office this morning. Maybe it’s because the man sitting at the table across from her was looking at her like she held the key to so much more than just a PO Box. 

“Do you know why either of your parents would have had one?” she asked showing him a picture of the key. There was no way she could have brought it along with her. It was being watched very carefully, the team plotting what their next move would be. 

“Why do people usually have them?” he asked. He picked up the image Emma had printed, giving it a hard look. She could see gears turning in his head but intuition told her that no one knew of this mailbox. 

“Usually,” she started, “to hide something. Bills that someone wants to hide, letters, documents… anything someone wouldn’t want their family to see.” 

“You know where it is, don’t you?” 

“I may have done some digging and found the post office where the box is located.” She was surprised he read her so quickly. That was usually her job. 

“Do you plan to take me with you?” he was curious. Intrigued by this recent development. 

“I can’t take you with me. But I can tell you anything I find out.” 

He reached into his suit jacket pocket, pulling out a small white notepad and pen. He began scribbling something down in loopy letters. 

“This is my personal cell. The one you have is the work number and I don’t answer that after a certain hour. And this is the name of the hotel I’m staying in. It’s about twenty minutes away if you need...” he pushed the paper across the table. “If you need my assistance with anything.” 

He took the final sips from his coffee cup and abruptly stood, wrapping his jacket around himself urgently. Emma could barely get out a ‘thank you’ or ‘good-bye’ before he was leaving the coffee shop. She looked down at the paper to see he had indeed scrawled out a cell phone number and the address of a hotel. She didn’t know whether to smile or be pissed off. What an utterly, infuriatingly confusing man, she thought to herself. 

 

By the next day she had divulged the information about where she believed the PO Box to be and a search warrant had been granted. A small team was assembled of she, David, and Graham to go and gain access to the box themselves. The drive was long. The post office being almost an hour outside of Storybrooke. The name on the box wasn’t listed online so they would just have to ask when they arrived. 

They pulled up and it was a tiny building. Smaller than the one in Storybrooke for sure. A little old woman stood behind the counter which was only several feet from the door. The entire building seemed to double as a convenience store as well, a wall of cigarettes behind the woman and packs of gum in front of the counter. She gave them a friendly smile as the three officers approached. 

“Hello, miss. I’m Detective Graham Humbert.” He held up a badge and a warrant they had been granted to open the box. “We need to have a look inside one of the mailboxes over there for an investigation, if you please.” 

He was charming, Emma would give him that. The old woman barely glancing at the piece of paper before leading us to the mailbox in question. She continued to smile at Graham and led, him specifically, to the box. 

“This one hasn’t been opened for a while, detective.” She looked at him with hearts in her eyes. Emma was pretty sure they hadn’t even needed the warrant the way the old woman looked at Graham. She would have led him to the deepest corners of the earth if he had asked. 

“Perfect.” He smiled as the door opened. Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She and David made their way over to where Graham was standing, peaking inside the box. They all put on gloves as Graham reached in and pulled out what appeared to be a credit card. 

“So which one of them had a secret account?” David asked, assuming what Emma had. That the box was used as a cover for the bills from a hidden credit card. 

“Neither.” Graham looked the piece of plastic over before handing it to Emma. “It’s a key card to a motel room.” 

A motel room key. So someone was meeting people at a motel room. But which? 

“Excuse me, Miss. Whose name is this mailbox listed under?” 

“Let me see.” She pulled a thick stack of papers out from behind her post at the counter, scanning through what Emma assumed to be the list. “It’s listed here underneath a Nathan Jones.” 

“Do you remember the last time anyone was here for this one? Is there any record of that?” Emma asked. She didn’t recognize the name Nathan. Perhaps Killian knew of someone with that name.

“Not that I can recall.” The woman said. She wasn’t lying, Emma could tell. But this was not exactly helpful. 

“Thank you for your time, Miss. We will need to take the contents of the mailbox as evidence.” David came in trying to smooth things over. They would need to ask for more information and it seemed the old woman was much friendlier to Emma’s male counterparts than her. So she let David and Graham do the rest of the talking, trying to be patient as they slowly got folders of records about the post office. Hopefully somewhere in there would be a record of who had opened the mailbox. 

That night Emma was at the station well past her bedtime. Most of the lights were out, everyone had gone home except for she, David and Graham. Neal had offered to cook Henry dinner so she could stay late. She was on the computer researching the motel the key card in the mailbox had been for. As much as she knew she should call Killian she had put it off. Wondering if maybe it wasn’t a great idea to involve him so much in this. It was his parents he had a right to know and maybe he could be more helpful than the guessing game Emma’s head was going through now. She thought of what he had said, about his father being an unpredictable man. Brennan Jones swallowed whole by alcoholism, leaving a shell of himself with his family before he died. 

She wondered if perhaps the key card was to a motel where he would meet his mistress. A quiet place far from town where he could go have a sweaty tumble in the sheets with some woman he hardly cared for. Forgetting all about his family at home, indulging in his vices. Emma had seen photos of the elder Mr. Jones… he was a handsome man. It was entirely possible for him to take a secret lover. But what did all of this have to do with the person sending the clues? What did all of this have to do with the murder? 

She needed to discuss this with someone who had a bit of insight. Someone who could offer the information about the Jones’ marriage that she needed. For this, there was really one person she could call. She picked up the phone and dialed. Hoping he was still awake though it was an ungodly hour. 

“Killian. It’s Emma. Can you meet?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and for the comments and for the feedback! This chapter is a little over 7200 words so its very long. Enjoy! All rights to OUAT.

Emma waited for Killian in the hotel bar of the place he was staying. The place was luxurious, to say the least. All high ceilings and dramatic pillars. In a way it reminded her of the Jones mansion before it began to crumble. He had agreed to meet her when she called him not even an hour ago. But it was late and probably inconvenient so she offered to come to him. 

The bartender was a middle aged man with graying hair and wore a black vest. She felt very out of place in this world. His world. Any of the scenarios Emma had encountered Killian in recently had been on her territory... but this. This was different. She wore jeans that had holes up and down the legs and brown leather boots that reached her knees. Her long blonde hair fell loose around her shoulders because she hadn’t bothered to brush it that day. And she was absolutely certain that the little makeup she had put on that morning, nearly twelve hours before, had worn off. 

A couple at the other end of the bar was dressed to the nines probably coming back to the hotel for a drink after an extravagant night in the city. They sat facing one another in an act of intimacy you can only have with someone you undoubtedly trust. The woman with long black hair elegantly framing her face. The man with lighter hair kept back to reveal the adoring eyes with which he gazed at this woman. Emma wondered if she would ever know that kind of intimacy with someone. She shook her head and went back to her drink. A rum and coke she had ordered but barely nursed it. She honestly just wanted to tell Killian what she knew and go home. Emma was a bit wary after their last interaction, him rushing out of the coffee shop without so much as a wave good bye. Why was she dumbfounded each time that man left her presence? 

“Time change is bloody awful.” He mumbled when sat down at the bar stool next to her. “I’ve been here weeks and I still can’t seem to feel awake when I’m supposed to.” 

She looked to him. He appeared rather ragged. His hair wasn’t perfectly styled, it was in fact messy. He wasn’t donning a tailored suit or designer jeans. The scruff on his chin was longer and unkempt. He didn’t come off as manicured as he had before. His blue eyes were red rimmed, she felt bad for even calling him this late. She should have just waited. 

“I have some news for you. I’m sorry for calling so late I just didn’t know if you would want me to wait.” 

“It’s all right.” He started, she watched him shift in his seat to get comfortable. He raised his hand slightly and the bartender nodded in his direction before setting to work on making a drink. “I would have wanted to know.” 

“There isn’t necessarily a polite way to say this, Killian.” 

“I think you and I did away with polite a long time ago, love.” 

It irked her. Every time. The use of that word as if it were such a casual endearment for someone. He would just throw it out there whenever he pleased. Emma wasn’t entirely sure if the fact that he used it bothered her or that he used it on other women bothered her. 

“Do you use that term with everyone?” her voice came off more annoyed than she had initially intended. 

“No, come to think of it I don’t believe I’ve ever used it with your father.” A lighthearted smirk. He seemed to become amused when she was irritated. Especially when he was the cause of it. “Does it bother you?” 

“It just catches me off guard when you say it.” She tried not to give anything else away, sitting rather stiff-like on the bar stool, very aware of how close he was to her. She took a sip of the rum and coke to busy her hands. 

“It’s a habit of speech, so I apologize. I most certainly don’t mean it to offend you.” She could almost see him smiling out of the corner of her eye. “Unless of course you like it.” 

“Let’s just… let’s just talk about what I came here for. Okay?” She licked the light dusting of alcohol on her lips and inhaled a few quick breaths to calm herself down. Irritation, or was it something else, building within her belly. She flipped a long lock of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Inside the mailbox was the key to a motel room.” 

“Oh?” The bartender brought Killian’s drink and placed it in front of him. It was also a rum and coke but Emma was certain he had ordered a higher shelf liquor than her. 

“So my suspicion is that one of your parents was having an affair.” She turned toward him and lowered her voice, not sure she wanted anyone else in the room to hear their conversation. “Given what you’ve told me about his track record… my money’s on your father.” 

“Ah, yes. That does sound like dear old dad.” He was staring straight forward now, not meeting her eyes, he took a sip from his glass. The ice rattling against the sides as he set it back down on the bar with a loud ‘thunk’. She felt the urge to reach out and touch his shoulder, something to offer him comfort. The circumstances they were under were not light, and it was clearly weighing on him. 

“Did you know anyone by the name of Nathan Jones?” she asked, once he had untensed a bit. “That was the name the mailbox was listed under.”

“My grandfather. Father’s father. But he was long gone by that time.” Killian’s face once again grew more troubled. She didn’t want to press him for information but she also knew he wanted to help. And maybe it was up to her to find ways in which he could. Even if they weren’t comfortable. 

“So whomever opened it probably did so in your grandfather’s name, and then used it for their own antics.” 

“It would appear so.” 

“If this is too hard for you, we could always just give you a weekly report.” She offered. “It could be sent through your lawyer. It might be easier on you.” 

“As much as I know you’re probably eager to be rid of me,” he turned to look at her now, his face resuming the arrogant glow that it usually had, “I feel my help is more needed than my absence.”

“If you’re sure.” 

“Positive.” He said finishing what little he had left of his drink. “Is there anything else?” 

“Not at the moment. I haven’t had the chance to go scope out the motel.” She shared. She had wanted to go almost immediately. But her father and Graham were leaving for Boston early Saturday morning to meet with Graham’s chief and give a report on the status of the investigation. Along with them they had taken the security footage from the cameras on the building. The film was too blurry, not leading to anything distinct caught on camera but on one of the tapes there had been a shadow of a figure in a corner of the shot. Nothing the Storybrooke police department had would be able to deduce the figure, but they hoped Boston could help with it. In addition they had a record of the license plate numbers that had come in and out of town for the past six months, records of anyone traveling within the town limits, anything that would indicate someone had come here to send them on this wild chase. 

The case had also regained its media legs. That was a large part of the reason Emma opted out of the trip to Boston. Her father and Graham would be doing interviews with major news stations, newspapers, and the like before they all made their way to Storybrooke to once again swarm the streets to get their story. Emma wanted to avoid that circus as long as she could. They would be back Monday morning, but the curiosity of going to the motel was driving Emma mad. She had wanted to go. Even if it didn’t lead to anything, just to see the place. Retrace the steps of the departed. Find a way to make sense of the thought process. The only way she would solve this case was if she really understood Brennan and Moira Jones. The next step of that understanding would come from going to that motel. 

“I suppose you will not be needing my company on that trip as well?” he asked bringing her back from its wandering. 

She had remembered the day prior. With the mailbox. Him asking whether or not she would be taking him with her to see it. She knew it was stupid and despite her better judgement opened her mouth and let an unwise offer flow from her lips. 

“Actually. If you’re up for it I was going to go tomorrow.” What the fuck was she doing. He wasn’t going to come, of course he wasn’t coming. Who in their right mind would?

“All right.” 

“What?”

“I’ll go along.” He said a bit slower now. 

“You really don’t have to Killian. It can’t b-”

“I want to.” He cut her off. Deliberate in his words. There was no shaking him. She too had met her match. 

“I will see you tomorrow evening then.” She said, tossing some cash down on the bar to cover her one measly drink. A thousand rum and cokes couldn’t prepare her for a slight road trip with Killian Jones to a slimeball motel in the middle of nowhere. 

“Of course.” He raised his glass in her direction before draining the remaining liquid and throwing his own cash down onto the bar. “Good night, Emma.” 

“Good night Killian.” 

 

That night she dreamt, not of the case for the first time in weeks, something else entirely had made its way in. 

_Rough hands exploring her lace-clad body. The cold feel of handcuffs on her wrists, chaining her to the posts of her bed. Silk sheets adorning the mattress. Her body writhed against them, needing something. Anything. That would ease the ache between her legs. She looked down. Dark hair belonging to the head of someone she did not care to admit. Blue eyes piercing right into her soul as he worked his tongue over and over her delicate center. The scruff of his facial hair leaving tiny red marks on her thighs. “Please.” She begged, completely breathless as her core tightened with every last motion of his tongue. Slowly his mouth retreated and he eased something inside of her. She arched her back in response, grabbing onto the posts of the bed before realizing it was not his finger that had worked its way in. But the cool metal of an arched silver hook._

Saturday morning Emma woke a bit later than usual with a start. She had allowed herself not to set an alarm. But now was regretting it. The contents of her dream fully apparent to her as she sat up and looked around, grabbing her wrists just to make sure there were no handcuffs. There were not. Of course. She picked up her ragged copy of Peter Pan that sat on her bed. She had pulled it out after Henry’s play, reminiscing on the original story she had fallen in love with. Emma threw the book to the floor. The presence of the hook in her dream was only slightly erotic now in the light of the morning. Not entirely wanting to deal with the fact that someone had infuriatingly worked his way into her psyche. 

“Fuck.” She mumbled as she got out of bed. How in the world was she supposed to be in a car with Killian today. After that. The usual sun that came through her bay windows was blanketed by cloud cover. The day would not be so nice, Emma noticed and climbed out of bed. When she looked in the mirror in her en suite bathroom she saw something in her face. Color. There was a pink hint to her cheeks. It even reached her lips making them a bit plumper than usual. Through her thin white shirt she could see the hard outline of her nipples pressed to the fabric. What in the world had come over her? 

“Mom!” she heard Henry yell from down the hall. Damn it. Hopefully she had at least been quiet during her explicit dreams. “Are you okay in there?” 

“Yeah, kid. I’m fine!” oh my god he had heard her. “Just a bad dream. I’ll walk you to Gold’s in a half hour.” 

“I’m getting my period.” She said to no one but herself, still eyeing her appearance in the mirror. It was an offering of logic in a situation that was turning quite scary for her. Though she knew her time of the month wasn’t the cause of things. She ran cold water in the sink and splashed it on her face to wake herself up. As the water hit her skin untensed a little realizing that it was just a dream. There was nothing to worry about. That was all it had been. 

After dropping Henry off, Emma walked over to Granny’s to meet Ruby for breakfast. Despite working with her best friend they hardly had time together to themselves anymore and Emma felt herself missing having her to talk to. There weren’t many people Emma trusted. She could count them on one hand probably. But Ruby was always loyal. And for the most part understanding. Additionally, she hadn’t disclosed to anyone that Emma had followed Killian out of the office that day, and hadn’t mentioned it since. 

Her best friend already had a booth waiting for them when Emma arrived. Her favorite one. It was right by the front windows and she could see outside while she ate. Immediately she ordered a steaming pot of coffee and told Granny to keep them coming. She was still a little wired from her wake up this morning. 

“Em, you okay?” Ruby asked about halfway into their meal. Emma had opted for an omelette as opposed to a grilled cheese at 10 am. 

“Yeah. Why do you ask?” Emma took a nonchalant sip of her coffee. 

“Because you have sex hair and I know you're not fucking anyone.” 

Emma spit out the dark roast onto her omelette. Completely floored. That was the last thing she had expected to come out of Ruby’s mouth. Especially when her friend had stated it so casually. It wasn’t up for argument. 

“I haven’t been sleeping well.” Emma said as she wiped the spilled coffee from the table. “A lot on my mind lately. Obviously.” 

“Do any of the things on your mind have to do with a very handsome, very tortured Englishman?” 

“Ruby…” Emma looked at her best friend frustrated. They had been having such a nice breakfast why did it have to take this turn. “There’s nothing going on between me and Killian. I just want to help his family get some answers.” 

“You say that but then I don’t see you getting into a car following Liam off into lord knows where.”

“He never asked.” Emma defended. 

“Well he’s right over there why don’t you just go talk to him.” Emma looked over to where her friend’s head was tilted. Of course. There Liam Jones sat at a booth on the other side of the room. A pretty blonde woman across from him, feeding something on a spoon to a small toddler. A family. A whole family, she thought. He was entirely different from his brother. Even in the way Liam was built. His face had smile lines, his hair was lighter and curly, where Killian’s was dark and straight. He was soft where Killian was hard.

“Why are you acting this way? What does it matter to you?” 

“I’m just worried about you.” Her friend reached across the table and grabbed Emma’s available hand. “I know you’re tough. I get that. But you’ve always liked the bad boys, Em. And they’ve always liked you.” 

“I’m a smart girl. I’m not going to do anything wrong.” Emma reassured her friend knowing the concern had come out of love. The conversation eased into something else shortly after and it was like the tension had never occurred. Emma was grateful. She wasn’t entirely sure she could take more of that talk. Not after waking up this morning in the way that she did, flushed with emotion and… need. It had been a while since she’d had sex. That was all. Her body telling her it was time to go on another one time date with someone. Have him scratch her itch then send him on his way. 

After breakfast Emma had gone home to change into running clothes. The day wasn’t great but she needed exercise. She needed a nice long run. She had to get rid of some of her energy before seeing Killian later. So she made her way to the park, popping in her headphones to drown out the rest of the world. 

It wasn’t long before she was no longer on the grounds of the park. She had found an empty stretch of road that turned into a hill and decided to take that on. All she could hear was the music playing from her head phones. She had chosen Beyonce. For obvious reasons. Needing to feel a little more empowered as she took on this particular day. Over the top of the hill she could see the figure of someone walking along the side of the road. She squinted to see it was someone walking their dog. She ignored the person until she was a lot closer and realized exactly who it was. 

“You have a dog?” she stopped running and took out her earbuds when she was close enough that Killian could hear her. She hardly recognized him as he was dressed casually, jeans and a flannel. 

“Aye. She just arrived this morning. Regina returned from London with her.” Emma felt herself flush a little at the mention of Regina. She had wondered if maybe there was something going on with those two. Killian and Regina. Flying overseas to fetch his dog indicated maybe there was something more there. “Emma this is Princess, my dog. Princess this is Emma.” 

She bit back a laugh. Looking at the dog she did not look like a Princess. Nor did he seem the type to give that name to a dog. The dog was some sort of pitbull with a massive head and muscular body, her fur coat a gorgeous gray-blue color. He sensed her amusement and smiled. “Okay lass no need to laugh. I rescued her she came with that name.” 

“I’m sure she did.” Emma knelt down to give the dog the opportunity to come sniff her. She noticed a pink collar around her neck with a name tag that even had a small gold crown on it. She smiled, a bit amused that he not only had a dog named Princess but had given her a collar fit for the name as well. “Hi Princess, you’re adorable.” 

The dog warmed to Emma and was soon sitting on her lap on the concrete, inching every which way so Emma could scratch her more. She was awfully friendly. She wondered if maybe she and Henry might get a dog. Something they could rescue. It wasn’t an awful idea. They had the space. 

“She’s lovely, Killian.” Emma said before standing up. She had probably been sitting on the road for nearly ten minutes, distracted by how precious Princess was. 

“Glad you think so. She doesn’t usually like everyone she meets.” 

“She’s taken to you quite well.” She noticed the dog’s loyalty toward her owner almost instantly. As soon as Emma had ceased petting her Princess had returned to Killian’s side, sitting demurely next to him. 

“Love at first sight.” He said back looking at Emma, not taking his baby blue eyes from hers. She wasn’t sure what she should do next. If she should put her music back on and keep running or what. But now looking at him, in jeans and a flannel shirt, a hint of chest hair peeking from beneath, she couldn’t get the sight of him in her dream out of her mind. Bent down between her legs. She completely at his mercy. She felt a bit warm and turned her head so he wouldn’t see. 

Luckily she wasn’t the one who would have to make the next move. Princess began grunting and tugging trying to get Killian to walk from his spot he was locked in. 

“Looks like someone would like to continue their walk.” Emma joked looking at Princess making defiant tugs at her bright pink leash. They were quite the pair those two. 

“Care to join us?” he offered, taking Emma off guard. She weighed the option in her mind. They were far enough outside of town that no one would likely see them together. At least not anyone she knew. But then she remembered her conversation with Ruby earlier in the day. She had promised her best friend there was nothing going on. She had promised herself there was nothing going on. Yet here she was, standing a few feet from him, wanting to be just a bit closer. 

“Okay.” She answered before she could stop herself. Before she could come to her senses and run the hell home. 

“We were just headed to this field up here so she can run around. She had a long journey to get back to me.” Killian said as they started walking together. It was nice, Emma had to admit, the closeness of it. She almost forgot the circumstances they were under. Almost. 

“When did you rescue her?” Emma asked once they were in the open field. The grass was tall but Princess was strong and fast. She leapt and bounded over each patch, catching the tennis ball Killian had brought to throw to her. Emma was surprised a dog with that much energy had made it eight hours on a plane. 

“About 6 months ago. She needed a home and I needed a companion.” There was something behind his words. A touch of regret. Maybe that was why he had only had one serious partner. 

“Bad breakup?” 

“Dreadful.” He did not appear that he wanted to elaborate on the discussion and quickly changed the subject. “She usually travels with me for work. She’s well trained now, but coming back to the states was so sudden I didn’t have time to get her paperwork in order.”

“I’m sure it’s nice to have her here finally.” Princess brought the ball back but this time dropped it at Emma’s feet. 

Killian leaned down near to Emma’s ear to say, “She wants you to throw it for her, love.” Had he been standing that close this whole time? 

They spent the early part of the afternoon playing with his dog in the field. Princess never seemed to tire. But eventually Killian did and he had to get back to his hotel for a conference call before their excursion later that night. You could almost forget he was an in-demand businessman, with a dark unsolved past when he was scaled back like this. Just a man playing with his dog in a field. She wondered how often he was able to be this version of himself. The version that wasn’t closed off from the rest of the world, the one that smiled at stupid jokes, and neglected trimming his beard. 

They walked back to the road separated by Princess who proudly carried the tennis ball in her mouth. Killian reattached her pink leash. 

“Well, it was a pleasure. I think my dog enjoyed your company.” Looking down the dog now sat at Emma’s feet, not moving in the opposite direction she and her owner were headed. 

“I enjoyed hers.” Emma bent down to pet the dog on the head but she looked at Killian all the while. “Listen, if you would rather stay with her tonight since she just got here, we can cancel. I understand.” 

When she rose from petting the dog she was very close to him but neither one of them moved. 

“It’s quite all right. She’s visiting with Liam and his family tonight anyway.” Had he told his brother where he was going? And that he was going with her? “He thinks I have a date.” 

Emma gulped. She was sure Killian could read her face. It was in the same way she could read his. Two untrusting people appearing as open books to one another. 

“Of course I don’t think this is an actual date, Emma.” He corrected. Clearly he could tell what she was thinking. They were still awfully close to one another and Emma could feel her heart beating a bit faster when he looked right into her eyes and said, “If I thought it was a date, you’d know it.” 

It was a lot for her but she still didn’t move. She didn’t want to be the first to back down. His tongue darted to the corner of his mouth before his face broke into an amused smile. Oh yeah. He knew what he did to her. 

“I’ll see you later then, Emma.” He spun on his heel and began walking away, his Princess right beside him. Emma couldn’t help but notice a bit of a spring in his step as he walked toward the direction of his hotel. 

 

The late evening sunset was on the horizon, painting the sky an array of pinks and oranges. Emma packed a small bag of things she may need for the little road trip. Her badge, pictures of the hotel key, flashlight, gun, knife, flash drive, a box of poptarts. She was technically off the clock. But Emma needed to keep moving with things. It was for this very reason she was even going on this excursion to see the motel where Killian’s father had been carrying out an affair. She was bringing Killian because…. She would have to provide herself with an excuse later. 

From what Emma could see on the internet, the motel was sleazy. It was the type of place you took someone you didn’t want the world to know you were seeing. It had been closed down for a while because a prostitution ring was being run out of several of the rooms. Not even a year ago there had been a shooting in the parking lot. Despite all of this, the place was still open for business. She doubted there was any kind of record that would indicate who had been occupying room 38 with Mr. Jones nearly twenty years ago but Emma had to go see what she could find. There had to be something useful. 

She picked up Killian just as the sun was setting. He still appeared tired when he climbed into her car. But he carried two steaming mugs of coffee and handed one to Emma. She was shocked when she took a sip of hers and found that it had the barest hint of cinnamon. She looked over at the passenger seat, astonished that he had even known. 

“Did I not do it right?” He looked concerned and then pissed, “I told the man at the coffee bar, a little bit of cinnamon, just a touch. It’s too much?”

“How did you know?” 

“That day at the bookstore. Your mother brought you a cup but they had been out of cinnamon…” 

“Thank you.” Was all she could say. It was the most subtle and thoughtful thing someone had done for her in a long time. She almost felt guilty for being so hard on him. Deep down maybe he actually was a gentleman. 

She peeled out of the parking lot and set off on the road. There wasn’t much conversation between the two of them but the silence was comfortable. The miles of highway stretched on as the sun was still fully going down. Emma took large gulps of her coffee so she would be fully awake by the time she got to their destination. When they pulled into the motel it looked worse than it had online. Clearly the photo from the website was from years ago. The foundation appeared to be crumbling, the red paint was chipping off of the wood siding, and the surrounding lawn area was completely overgrown. Only a few cars were in the parking lot, none of them too flashy. Emma was glad they had chosen to take her old rickety bug and not Killian’s Audi. 

“What’s the plan, love?” 

“I need to get into their computer to snag any record they may have so I can look at it on my own.” She knew there was a very good chance a place like this had absolutely no concrete record of who came and who went but she needed to try. “I think it would be best if we just paid for the room. And then we can take a look around.” 

“They are pretty steep prices,” Killian joked indicating the sign that said rates per night were around $50. “Is this on the police department’s dime?”

“No.” Emma said looking at him, hoping he wouldn’t be angry when she said “The police department doesn’t know that we’re here.” 

“Oh.” He chimed, clearly surprised but did not appear upset. If anything the look that came over his face was amusement. “What a naughty little adventure you’ve dragged me into, Miss Nolan.” 

His use of her formal name brought her back to when they had first met that day at the police station. The stiff, rigid way in which he used to deal with her. He was still guarded, they both were. Perhaps that was why she had asked him to come along today. It was just nice to be around someone who didn’t expect her to reveal herself. 

“You follow your own rules don’t you?” he asked after a few minutes of quiet. She could feel herself doubting whether or not it was a good idea to do this. What if her father found out? What would he say? But they were already here. So she took a deep breath and exited the bug. 

Once inside the lobby of the main building, Killian created a diversion with the man at the front desk, allowing Emma to use drive to collect information from the computer. They cut it close, the man almost returning to the main room a few times but Killian managed to be a decent wingman, keeping him distracted until Emma waved that she was done. 

After that, Emma asked the man to rent the room they wanted to see. She assumed it wouldn’t be odd if they did not stay over, being that places like this were typically used for quick trysts masked by the thin walls and tree coverage. It was set back from the highway. She looked at Killian wondering how he felt being here. Knowing this was probably where his father had brought his lover or perhaps lovers. Of that they were not entirely sure. Had there been just one? Or several? 

“Enjoy.” The creepy man said as he gave them the room key, most likely suspecting the two were here for a quick one and done. As they turned to walk away Emma felt the light press of Killian’s hand on the small of her back.. She jumped at the contact. This was only the second time she had felt his touch, but the current that went through her body unmistakeable as something more than just surprise. He looked down at her, somewhat concerned that she had flinched at his touch. Had he felt it too? Of course not. It was an act. For the man behind the front desk. However, his hand did not move away until Emma was slipping the key card into the slot on the door for the room. 

“Lovely.” Was all Killian said when he walked into the room. Emma took survey of the space and could only think of one word. Decrepit. The single queen sized mattress central to the appeared appeared to be sinking into the floor. The wallpaper, which had probably once been white, were stained a faint yellow. A thick layer of cigarette smell hung in the room despite the ‘No Smoking’ sign that sat atop the tube tv in the corner. There was a single lamp in the room that provided the only light because the one window gave a fantastic view of a brick wall. It certainly was private. 

“I suppose if one was going to have an affair this would be the place.” Emma regarded, taking a few steps further into the room. Killian was already ahead of her, surveying the space. With each step he looked more and more disgusted. No doubt wondering why his father would have chosen this life apart from his mother. 

“They were happy once, you know.” He said after a long time, his hand shooting up to scratch behind his ear. “In love, even.” 

“I’m sure.” Emma tried to come off understanding. It never helped her faith in long term relationships when she knew of stories that ended like this. Not necessarily in murder but in the altogether loss of love for someone. So much so that you feel the only way out is to run off and fuck someone else. 

“Have you ever been in love?” he asked, turning his head toward her. He was across the room. His shoulder leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front. 

Emma thought back to the last time she had felt anything more than general boredom for the men she had dated. It felt like far too long ago. The way Neal had once looked at her, and it seemed like her heart would burst into flames if she had to go without him. That feeling had disappeared. And now when she looked at him she was just reminded of the pain that had come along with the loss of that feeling. Truly feeling like you could place your heart in that person’s hand and trust that they would do nothing but guard it. But that had been long gone. So instead, Emma put her walls up and left nothing to the imagination when she replied to Killian, “No. I have never been in love.” 

He didn’t fight her on it. Didn’t call her out. He took the lie with a grain of salt and continued the peruse the room. He was relatively quiet as he moved. Emma was unsure if it would be better to speak or to just let the silence wash over them. She chose the latter, thinking of what she would want if she were in his position. This dark and confusing man still so shattered by the demons haunting his past. Emma felt silly for even thinking there was something occurring Killian and his lawyer. There so clearly was not. There was nothing between he and anyone. He kept himself alone, save for the presence of his dog. His past far too damaging to proceed with someone new. 

“We can go anytime you like, Killian.” She said, not knowing what else to offer him. “There doesn’t seem to be anything else of value here.” 

“No. There doesn’t.” He looked around the room again before sitting down on the bed and placed his head in his hands, his dark hair peeking through the gaps between fingers. She wanted to offer some sort of comfort to him she really did. But there was nothing she felt she could do that would in any way be appropriate. So instead she settled for sitting on the edge of the grimy mattress next to him. There was more to this than the simple fact of his father’s affair. She knew that when she caught sight of his forearm, the black ink decorating it. She hadn’t noticed before. But now in the dim light of this shitty motel, his sleeve had fallen and she could see. A simple word in delicate script. Grace. 

“Your breakup, the one you rescued the dog after,” she started, remembering what he had said yesterday, knowing she was already walking on shaky ground. “Who was she?” 

He lifted his head up and looked at her, their faces now mere inches apart. Their shoulders were touching but neither one of them moved to correct it. “Someone from long ago.” 

“Grace?” Emma asked, pressing a bit. She recalled the name of the woman she had found in her research of him. The only real relationship the man had ever had. Wondering who this phantom woman was who seemingly made him whole for a time and then re-broke him again. 

“She’s gone.” He was still looking at her. He didn’t bother to ask how she had known the name of his ex-girlfriend. Emma did everything she could to not glance down at his lips, which were a hairsbreadth from her own. “For someone who’s never been in love you’re quite perceptive aren’t you?” 

Her voice was shaky as she looked at him. “Maybe I was. Once.” 

 

They left the motel, no more progress had been made since they arrived. Other than seeing the actual space where the affair had taken place. But Emma had the information from the computer and that was something she could work with. However unethical it may be. In the case of Killian, it had done more harm than good. Emma felt exceedingly guilty on the car ride back to town later in the day. The only proof he was next to her was when they both went to turn the AC down and reached for the knob at the same time. Their fingers simply grazing over one another but for a touch too long. Electricity shot through Emma. For the second time today. She didn’t bother to look over at him, not wanting to see that his face had returned to the usual smoldering stare he plastered on. When he didn’t want anyone to see beneath his facade. The facade Emma wanted to shatter with all of her might. Because underneath, he was decent to be around. Pleasant sometimes. And she liked that she had gotten to see glimpses of that man. 

“I have to go in and grab a few things. You can wait in the car if you want. It won’t take long.” She offered after she pulled into the parking lot of a nearby Target. Obviously it wasn’t the most convenient time for a trip to the store but they still had a ways to go before they reached Storybrooke and for fucks sake she needed out of the tension between she and Killian that had enveloped her car. She also needed groceries. More importantly the groceries. 

“It’s fine.” He seemed to be weighing his options in his head before saying. “I’ll come along.” 

Inside Emma made quick work of all of the things she needed to get. Mostly she just wanted to make sure Henry had food for breakfast this week when he returned from staying at his father’s. He had been buying breakfast at school and Emma felt like a shitty mother. As the basket grew heavier Killian offered to take it from her, one of the few things to come out of his mouth since leaving the motel. She began to protest then remembered her aching limbs and conceded. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off about it and he cracked a bit of a smile at her displeasure. 

In line to check out, Emma slid her things down the conveyer belt wanting this process to speed up as fast as it could. Killian had grabbed a few things; some milk, a bag of dogfood, Forbes magazine, and stuck them at the tail end of Emma’s items. 

A woman who appeared behind them in line had been eyeing Killian. There was a small part of Emma that was annoyed. A smart part that grew even larger when the woman had the audacity to place a plastic divider between Emma and Killian’s groceries. To include his in her own. She looked at the woman behind Killian, who was just smiling at him, incredulous at how bold this stranger had been. Granted, he was an attractive man. But still. The nerve. 

Emma was not entirely sure what came over her, perhaps she was inspired by the woman’s boldness to one up her. Emma took the plastic divider, looking the woman right in the eye, and placed it to include Killian’s things in her own again. She felt her face grow hot, flush creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks. She was almost entirely sure her face was a bright blush pink as it did when she was flustered. Jesus hopefully he didn’t notice. Before she could return to pay for their things she caught gazes with the man standing next to her. Blue eyes red rimmed with exhaustion but still gorgeous nonetheless. His eyebrows were raised in surprise. The whole exchange had occurred rather quickly but judging from the look on his face he had seen the entire thing. 

By the time they were back in the bug and on the road, neither one of them had said another word to each other. The silence hung thick. Again. They were both clearly thinking about what had happened in line. To Emma, it meant nothing. She wanted it to mean nothing. The wave of defensiveness that came over her was nothing more than a one time thing. Her knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. That’s all it was. 

When they pulled up to his hotel, no more conversation had passed between them. A combination of the events of today, their trip to Target of all places, and general exhaustion had gotten the better of them. 

“Thank you for bringing me along today. I know it didn’t go as you planned.” He started, gathering the grocery bag he had in the back seat. “And thank you for these.” He raised the red bullzeyed bag in front of her with a knowing smirk on his face. 

“Yeah well think of it as a thank you for the helpful information you’ve given me recently.” She could feel a smirk of her own working its way on to her face. 

“Of course, love. You aren’t the only one who wants answers.” 

“I will let you know if anything else comes up. But I’m back in the office Monday and I think Graham has already told your lawyer she wants you and Liam to come in.”

“Graham?” his face looked a bit puzzled. 

“I mean… Detective Humbert. The man from Boston.” She covered. Perhaps she hadn’t indicated to Killian she was on a first name basis with the man. But then again why would she have needed to? 

“I will see you then. Good night.” He was getting out of the car now, closing the door as she was just about to say good night he poked his head back in the open passenger side window. “Oh and Emma?” 

“Yes?”

“Blush looks lovely on you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Always looking for feedback and general thoughts!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Thanks for reading and for all the feedback as always. It truly is what keeps me going. This one is around 7600 words, so it took me longer than I thought it would. As per usual I own nothing, all rights to OUAT!!!!

Killian’s POV 

She was an utterly infuriating and compelling woman. Emma Nolan. Ever since she had reentered his life she had made quick work of challenging him. Everything he once thought he felt in resentment toward his former hometown, now conflicted with the lure that he felt toward being involved in this world. This private and painful part of his life now brought to the surface after twenty years underground. And she was the captain at the forefront. Turning his world on its head. 

He had barely recognized her that night in The Rabbit Hole. Far before she had waltzed in, he and Liam had drowned themselves in a heavy pouring of rum. It was the first time Killian had been drunk in years, his busy life in London left little time for lingering in bars and hangovers the next day. However in this case the burden of being back here was far heavier than either one of them had been prepared for that first night. They decided to take the night to try and unwind. Rounding up a game of pool, ordering shot after shot from the bartender, making utter fools of themselves in what would have been an otherwise severely unpleasant evening. That was when he saw her. The shock of long blonde hair and leather jacket at the bar drawing him in. He was wasted by that point. Slurring word after word. By the time he had returned from the bar, he barely remembered the exchange that had passed between he and the woman. But he was entirely certain she was not interested. 

Then the events following intrigued him further. Starting with seeing her in the police station that next morning. All cool demeanor and cordiality toward him. She was saving him the humiliation of having to explain to her father the way in which they had actually met the prior night. He was not sure why she did him this favor. It was then that he remembered knowing her growing up. She was the Sheriff’s daughter. Utterly untouchable now as far as he was concerned. Reigning in the initial feeling of desire he felt for her. Green eyes. Long blonde hair. A radiant smile that’s appearance was few and far between. The ability to command a room. They weren’t here to be friends, he reminded himself, they were here to figure out what had actually happened to his parents. 

The weeks following their truce were somewhat… pleasant under the circumstances. The day in the motel where she had dared ask about Grace. His first real love. The name emblazoned on his arm now, feeling more like a scar than the gesture of devotion it had been when he had gotten the tattoo done. He couldn’t fault her though. For whatever reason he was not angered by her curiosity, he instead fed into it. He found that Emma Nolan fearless. She wasn’t intimidated by him, no matter how much he had tried their first few times seeing her. She was quick witted, sharp, and though she was stubborn as a mule he could feel she was enjoying their time together as well. 

_“Emma, love, why don’t you try it with this knife instead. It’s smaller.” He had said to her a few days ago when they had gone back to his father’s car wreck in the woods. It was only the two of them. An unspoken desire for privacy the main lure. He handed her the knife. She had been struggling to open the glove box for a few moments now. And while he knew she preferred to conquer tasks on her own, she had been the one to invite him here. So in some way he suspected she was open to a bit of help from him._

_“Thanks.” She took the knife without argument and without looking him in the eyes, dedicating her focus immediately back to the jammed glove box of his father’s old car._

_A few seconds later he heard a click, signifying the damned thing had finally cracked open. A wave of victory washed over him. He liked being right almost as much as she did._

_“What’s inside?” he asked trying to get a better look at way lay in the messy glove box. Mostly old papers, the licensure for owning the car, a book of stamps, a pen that had exploded and left a trail of ink over all of the box’s contents._

_“Nothing important.” Emma flipped through the pile, visibly disappointed._

_“I’m not sure my father would have left any kind of paper trail. He was a powerful man. If he wanted to cover something up, he would have done it without a trace.”_

_“I just feel like we’ve hit a dead end.” She put her head down in her hands, the pile of ink stained papers falling to her feet. “It’s like I can’t figure anything out unless we get some cryptic note delivered to the station. I just feel like a puppet.”_

_He didn’t want to see her upset. She rarely ever gave away how she was feeling. Save for their first adventure together. In line buying the groceries afterwards, and something had gotten the best of her. Caused her entire face to turn a soft pink. It was gorgeous. Jealousy? He wondered if it could have been, but thought better of it. There was no way Emma could have been jealous. Pissed off maybe. But jealous, probably not._

_“Hey. Emma.” He reached his hand down and tilted her chin so she was looking at him. At first he had worried the contact was too forward of him, this only being maybe the third time they had touched. But once he caught sight of her speckled green eyes brimming with tears all he wanted to do was make the sadness go away. Show her how much he had entrusted within her to figure out what had happened to his parents. A single tear escaped and he wiped it with the pad of his thumb, brushing it along her chin for just a second too long. And she wasn’t resisting him. “You will figure it out, darling. You’re more than capable.”_

_Her face softened at his words. There was the hint of her radiant smile. A bit of relief came over him despite the invisible current running between them. The electric feeling he got the few times they had touched. He was not sure he would be able to hold it together if he watched her cry. This intricately closed off soul he had felt a draw to the moment he returned. It felt so intimate. This moment between them in the deteriorating car. Side by side in the driver’s and passenger seat. He wondered if his father had experienced that kind of feeling. With his mistress in this very car. Driving down some lonely highway and trading stories about their lives they were running away from. Or perhaps they never spoke of such things and instead pretended they were each other’s one and only. It made him sick. The idea that his mother was at home, raising his children, and his father having the audacity to step out on her in such a way._

_“Killian…” she started, bringing him back to the present moment. “You alright?”_

_“Of course, love. Why?”_

_“If you look at me any harder you’re gonna drill a hole in my head.”_

_“I just…” he struggled to find his words, something that rarely had occurred that was until he had started spending so much time with her. “You don’t have to bear the weight of this on your own.”_

_Neither one of them moved away from each other. He didn’t want to be the first to break this moment. The light feeling taking over his chest, something he had not felt since… since her. No. He scolded. Emma was different. She wasn’t out to hurt him. He could see it in her delicate gaze now that continued to bore into his soul. Their faces now inches apart, he could feel a light dusting of her breath on his face. Every cell in his body live with this pull to her. This chemistry. This… desire. His eyes shifted to her plump, bow shaped lips. Then he caught himself. He hesitated. And she picked up on it._

_“We should go,” she said abruptly. Giving him very little time to get his wits about him before she was exiting the car. Or what remained of the car anyway. She was fleeing. He knew it well. But he opted to follow her nonetheless. Something he had taken to doing rather willingly these days._

Today he and Emma were meeting in the bookshop during her lunch. It was a casual enough place that if anyone saw them, they would suspect it to be a chance encounter. They had to be more careful these days. Slowly but surely, news crews were coming to town looking for a story. He hated them. Every last one of the vultures trying to swoop in and publicize his family’s trauma yet again. 

In the morning he had been at the police station with Liam and Regina. They spoke of potential people their father could have been having an affair with. Lists and lists of different people he associated with throughout the years who could know something. Because Killian and Liam most certainly did not. Their view of their father Brennan was clipped at best. He was a terse man for most of their lives, spending little family time with them. His raging alcoholism being the source, and Killian’s mother trying her best to keep them away from it. Killian felt in his pocket for the only relic he kept of his mother. A silver pocket watch that had been a wedding gift to his father. In it was an engravement of her photo and her initials. She had given it to him on his sixteenth birthday, the last birthday of his she had been alive for. He sighed at the thought. His father had in no way deserved her. 

Killian had given Emma a list of his two days before so she could get ahead but that was neither here nor there. She played along when they were at the station, acting as if these were the only times they saw one another. It was a mystery to him, why she was doing this. Why she felt the need to have information before everyone else she worked with did. And why he felt most comfortable disclosing details of his past to only her. 

They sat tucked back in one of the wings of the book store. Emma had gotten them coffee. Killian brought work to do before and after they met. She sipped the coffee which of course had cinnamon and whipped cream atop, a consistency of hers. 

“Can I ask you something?” he said after a few minutes of quiet between them. Not that he felt the need to fill the silence, he quite fancied her company with or without discussion. 

“Sure.” She shifted in the oversize arm chair, tucking her legs up underneath her. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Killian… it’s my job. I’m a cop.” 

“No, I mean this.” He moved his hand back and forth signaling between them. “Why are you meeting with me? Listening to me? Working exclusively with me.”

“You offered.” She diverted her eyes and sipped her coffee, a piece of blonde hair falling over her shoulder. He pretended not to notice how subtly it curled amongst the red thread of her sweater. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“I don’t agree with the direction Gr-Detective Humbert is taking the investigation.” She caught herself before she referred to him on a first name basis again. The last time she had done it ringing in Killian’s ear. Had something happened between the two? He felt his face grow warm at the thought. 

“So you’ve gone rogue?” 

“No. I’m still working with the investigation team. I’m just… exploring my own options as well.” If there was a double meaning behind her statement she left no indication on her face. “I think he’s making the same mistakes they made years ago and I think if he keeps doing that we will never figure anything out.” 

“Have you tried talking to him about it? You are deputy sheriff, you pull a significant amount of weight with that title.” Why in the world was he offering advice to drive her closer to this Graham fellow? 

“He won’t listen to me.” 

Now Killian was really starting to get warm, the thought of anyone not listening to her ideas. Not taking her seriously was unfathomable to him. She was intelligent. She was driven. She was hard working. She was highly intuitive. She was everything. 

Stop it Jones, he thought to himself. 

“So I will follow what he says when I’m there, and follow what I say when I’m not there. Okay with you?” She was looking at him now. Her green eyes bore into him. Was it possible she could see right through him? 

“Fine by me, love.” He returned to looking at his laptop, pretty sure that if he continued to look in her eyes he would fall into them. “But perhaps you should try speaking to him anyway. You deserve respect, Emma.” 

She didn’t argue with him she just returned to sipping her coffee and flipping through a book. He hoped in some way his words had gotten through to her. While he liked the nature of their meetings now, an unidentifiable part of him wanted her to feel comfortable at work. And confident in the job she was doing. For heaven's sake the woman was capable of literally running this investigation by herself and doing a better job than her superior. She deserved to have her opinions heard. 

 

Later that night he went to the house Liam and his wife were renting. It was a town over, in some bland looking suburban complex. But it was the best they could do on such short notice. They had come all the way from California and it seemed like there was no end to the case in sight. And since they had a daughter it seemed best to have a yard and bedrooms and a big space for her to play. Instead of staying in a hotel for however long, like Killian was planning to do. 

“Little brother!” Liam greeted Killian the way he always did. Patting him on the back and welcoming him into his family’s home. “And hello to you too, Princess.” Liam bent down to pet the dog. She was Killian’s family. The only version he felt entirely comfortable with at this point. 

“Younger brother, just younger.” Killian grabbed onto Liam’s hair and pulled him down under his arm. He felt more relaxed here. With his brother and his wife Laura. And Harper their charming little lass who grew more bright eyed by the day. Despite the circumstances. 

“Don’t break anything, it’s a rental!” Killian heard Laura yell from the other room. If he was grateful for one thing in this whole scenario, it was that he was able to spend some time with his brother. They only saw each other on holidays really since Liam lived in California. But Killian would appreciate whatever time was left being within driving distance from him before he would go back to London. 

“What’s to eat? I’m starved,” Killian said walking into the living room where Laura and their daughter Harper sat playing on the floor. They had arrived a few weeks ago, not wanting to spend all of this time away from each other. A slight pain struck Killian in a place he had not felt in a long time. His heart. Like he was missing something he never had in the first place. 

“There you two are.” Laura stood and walked over embracing Killian in a warm hug. She was one of the few people not scared of hugging him. She pulled away and looked at him with her kind brown eyes, her heart shaped face giving way to a smile. “When was the last time you had a homecooked meal?”

“Oh… I don’t know. Never?” he joked. 

“Well, here. You watch Harper. Liam and I will finish up dinner. We got lobster. The man at the market convinced me they were the best in Maine.” She smoothed out the sleeve of his shirt. “Does Princess need to go out?” 

“I think she would very much like to spend some time in the yard. Do you mind if I take the lass out with me?” 

“Just make sure Harper keeps her shoes on, that’s all I ask.” Laura raised her hands in the air. Looking a bit relieved to have a few moments alone with Liam, even if it was just to prepare dinner. Married life. 

Killian turned to Harper who sat on the floor eyeing him up. She was four years old now. Her light brown hair falling in curly tangles much like her father’s. And her big brown eyes that came from her mother. The little lass was an absolute spit fire. She would have Liam entirely gray by the time she hit middle school, of that he was certain. 

“Hello there.” He said a bit uncomfortably. He was not used to being around children really at all. Save for the few times a year he saw Harper. “Would you like to go outside and play with the doggy?” He knelt down so he was eye level with the little girl, Princess at his side. 

Harper nodded, not breaking eye contact. And Killian set to work putting on her shoes. He smiled as he tied the bows on her little ankles. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen something so adorable in his entire life. 

“You’re properly dressed now. Would you like to hold the leash? I can’t carry you and walk the dog.” 

Again the little girl nodded in agreement, her eyes lighting up at the thought of holding Princess’s leash. He picked her up and settled her on his hip, handing her the pink leash as they began to walk outside. See this wasn’t so bad. 

“You’re doing a great job, sweetheart.” He said to her when they reached the fenced in yard. It was not massive but it was enough space to have plenty of room to run. He told the little girl she could release the leash and asked if she wanted let down to play. Though she had met the dog before he understood, Princess was not the fluffiest looking dog and perhaps his niece was still a bit intimidated. 

“Can I pet her?” Harper asked when he set her down. Curiosity blooming in her face as she watched the dog run from corner to corner of the yard. 

“Of course.” He put two fingers in his mouth and whistled for his dog who immediately ran to stand before him. He raised his hand in the air, telling her to sit. Height wise the dog was about as tall as Harper. “Be patient now,” he warned Princess. She did not move from her spot. 

“Hi, Princess.” The little girl slowly approached the dog. She still appeared a bit nervous so Killian bent down to help. Harper took his fingers in her tiny hand and held them, he was surprised by the gesture but held on not wanting her to be afraid. Then with the other arm reached out and touched the top of Princess’s head. She slowly moved her hand back and forth, scratching and petting. Becoming more and more comfortable the longer she did it until she no longer needed to hold her uncle’s hand. She let go and began leading the dog around the yard in pursuit of a suitable stick to play with. 

“She’ll be trouble. Give her ten years.” Liam came up behind Killian as he spoke. The gleam in his eyes reappeared as he watched his daughter running around the back yard with the dog. “Do you ever think about taking the plunge?”

“Well, first I would have to find someone to do that with. There is that minor detail, brother.” Killian looked over at Liam who appeared to be growing more mischievous by the minute. He just stared at Killian. “What?” 

“Nothing… I didn’t say anything.” Liam pretended to seal his lips with an invisible key and mock threw it away.  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Killian looked away, choosing instead to focus on the adorable scene of his niece and dog rolling about in the yard together. 

“A certain blonde not ringing any bells for you?” 

“Liam… there’s nothing going on between Emma and I.” He immediately denied. An instant reflex of defending himself. 

A beat of silence went by and when Killian looked over and he could feel his stomach drop as his brother’s face bore a look of pure amusement. Maybe Liam had not been referring to Emma… 

“I was talking about the barista at the coffee shop this morning who wrote her number on your cup…” Liam said, realizing he had touched a nerve within his brother. 

Bloody hell.

“The deputy sheriff, Killian you devil.” Liam nudged him with his shoulder. For whatever reason his brother found this accidental turn of events hilarious. Killian wanted to wipe the smile right off his face but he knew there was nothing he could do. Liam had struck a part of him he wasn’t entirely comfortable with yet. 

“Dinner’s ready!” They were interrupted by Laura who had yelled from inside the house. Thankfully they would not have to elaborate on this terribly awkward conversation anymore. Harper and Princess made their way toward the house, a new alliance seemingly formed between the two. Killian thought of his brother’s question, wondering if he ever would find someone to have a child of his own with. A little lad or lass who would run around with his dog just the same. The image flashed before him, a dark haired toddler running around the yard with a bright smile and green eyes. An involuntary smile crept onto his face.

Just as Killian was about to enter the house through the back door he felt a hand on his shoulder that could have only been Liam’s. He turned around to see his brother’s face, still clearly amused. 

“For the record, little brother,” Liam started, “I was talking about Miss Nolan… I just wanted to hear you say it.” 

He had waltzed right into his brother’s bloody trap. 

 

Emma’s POV

David and Graham had returned from Boston in good spirits. The detective’s supervisor had been impressed with the progress that had been made and the organized way in which things were playing out. Emma could not say she felt the same. She was frustrated. She felt like she was completely at the mercy of this person sending notes and clues and evidence. It made her feel like less of a cop than she was. Should she not just be able to figure this all out? They had been given so much already, and it had amounted to so little. 

Following the return from the trip to Boston, the motel was scoured for anything that could be helpful. The man at the front desk was interviewed at the station. Emma took the liberty of staying back that day, her job at the motel already done. Finding ways to busy herself in the windowless evidence room with Neal, combing through the letters for any indication of who was sending them. They wouldn’t find anything there. She knew it. This note sender was weaving an intricate web. They would not find anything that was not supposed to be found. So instead she combed through the flash drive of documents from the motel’s computer. It was difficult to determine any kind of consistent record. Most people who stayed there paid in cash so there was no record of consistent credit card use. Not that anyone who stayed there was using a real name anyway. 

She thought of herself and Killian, the day they had gone to the motel. How easy it had been for them to give a fake name, pay in cash, and leave without so much as a second glance from the owner. Since that day she had spent an awful lot of time with Killian, much to her surprise. She found his company to be welcome. He was helpful, he answered most of her questions without resistance, and seemed just as eager as she to find answers. Of course he is. It’s his family. If anything he wanted them more. It was personal for him. And here he was trusting her to help him.She thought of the day in the car. They way he had comforted her, pulled her chin to face his gorgeous blue eyes. Even though the roles probably should have been flipped. It was his family. His mother. His father. But still he was worried about no one except her in that instance. Nevertheless he had looked her in the eye and all but spelled out that he undoubtedly believed in her. She had watched the measure of events in his eyes as they darted to her lips. She knew what would come next if she didn’t get herself out of there. If his lips had so much as brushed hers she wouldn’t have been able to stop. It had been too much and had felt herself fold in and close off, darting from that fucking car as abruptly as she could. Ignoring the feeling in her belly that told her to stay with him. 

A large meeting with everyone on the force was held midweek. Emma dreaded the thing. Having to sit in a room and listen to Detective Humbert lecture on about the direction he felt the case was pointing toward. It was the obvious answer. Liam and Killian. They knew more than they let on. They had been indicated in the will. They would have been heirs to this massive fortune. Emma supposed that for someone with a small mind that would be the clear path. But she was not that person. She thought of the conversation with Killian the day before at the bookstore. He had, for whatever reason, encouraged her to fix what was wrong at work. To stand up for herself and to say what she thought was going on. A part of her held back though. What did he know anyway? A lot. 

“Everyone, the motel search was a dead end and we have the research team looking through the computer records to see if there is anything incriminating within them.” Graham stood at the front of the conference room. Emma internally rolled her eyes. Of course it was a dead end. And the computer records would be as well. But she kept her mouth shut. She missed the days when it was her father addressing the group of people. “Until the next clue presents itself or we get the results from the security footage we sent to Boston we will keep working on procuring some sort of distinct motive. As this is all still a bit murky. If any information comes up do not hesitate to bring it to David, Emma, or I.” 

_Translation: tell me everything, it won’t amount to anything, you rejected me for a date, and I know how I want this case to play out._

“What if we think the motive has nothing to do with the brothers?” Emma raised her hand as she asked the question. 

“Then present your argument as best as you can,” he replied, picking up on her irritated tone. 

“Will do.” Out of the corner of her eye Emma could see her father. He looked almost as irritated as she did but she suspected it was not for the same reasons. She stood up from the table, indicating her presence in the meeting was done. She stormed out of the room and found herself standing in the lobby. Just needing a few minutes before going back inside. 

“Emma.” David’s voice came from behind her. He had followed her out. The hint of disappointment in his tone making her realize her behavior lately had not been great. “What was that?” 

“I think he’s making the same mistakes, dad.” She turned her head to see him. Hoping her honesty would make him see things her way. “He’s focusing too much on Liam and Killian. That isn’t the answer. You and I both know that isn’t the answer. The affair is the answer.” 

“I know, Em.” He put rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. He wasn’t here to yell at her. “But until there is something that indicates this person Mr. Jones was cheating on his wife with and that she had a reason to do it… why don’t you talk to him about it?” 

“He’s a complete ass.” 

“Talk to him. Explain yourself. Stand up for yourself. You deserve the respect but I can’t fight this one for you. I’ve told him how I think this is not the route things should be taken but if you feel a certain way or realize something we all don’t then speak up.”

He was right. He always was. Her father knew her well like that. They had been partners for a long time. But he couldn’t sway Graham by himself any more than she could. But perhaps if he heard from both of them… progress could be made. 

“You’re the best cop I know, Em. And I’m not just saying that because you’re my daughter.” He smiled with the little twinkle in his eye he only had when she was around. “Speak your mind. It comes up with brilliant things.” He didn’t wait for a response, he just leaned forward and kissed her forehead before going back into the station. 

He was right. He always was. And he was on her side. 

 

“Detective, can I speak with you for a moment?” Emma asked as soon as she mustered up enough of an organized monologue to say to him. 

“Sure.” He closed the manila folder in his hands and led her toward his makeshift office. A back room tucked away near evidence. It was all they had available at the time of his arrival. But inside he had seemed to make do. A few potted plants spotting the surfaces. A shelf for books had been filled with files upon files. His own cork board took over an entire wall that was littered with maps and red arrows, copies of notes. Scribbled thoughts. 

He sat down behind his desk, folding his hands in his lap. He looked up at her waiting for her to begin. 

“I think you’re focusing on the wrong things.” She started. 

“And why is that?” 

“Well, we found the will and immediately in your head you focused on Liam and Killian. That in some way they had something to do with a document left in a wall for around 20 years. And yes at the time I know it looked like that may have been the solution. But in the weeks since then the other solution seems so much clearer to me.” 

She took a breath, trying to gauge his reaction. She was trying not to be overly aggressive. The more respectful she was to him, hopefully the more seriously he would take her theories. 

“A crime of passion.” She stated. “The things we’ve received lately are all pointing toward an affair that went wrong. Based on what we’ve seen there was a false PO Box opened to cover the tracks of an illicit affair between presumably Brennan and someone else.” Again she paused, his hand had moved to his chin but he was indeed listening to her. “ Follow me for a minute on this. He carries out this affair with someone. The mistress becomes enraged with jealousy. Or anger. Maybe he had told her he would leave Moira for her and then never followed through. The mistress goes to their home and stabs them both to death.” 

“So then what do you make of the will?” 

“It was a pawn piece. Something to show the mistress Brennan was serious about leaving Moira. He left the boys as heirs in the will. But it was never officiated because in actuality he wasn’t leaving his wife.” 

He was quiet for a few moments after she finished. Emma’s breath caught in her throat waiting to see if he actually had heard her out. “Perhaps that is the explanation. I can have my team begin looking for the DNA of a woman not Moira and anything messy about the affair Brennan forgot to tie up before his death.” 

He had… agreed? And not just agreed. He had thought of some sort of next plans of action to take. She felt relieved. Almost expecting for him to berate her theory and ignore her entire soliloquy. 

“Thank you, detective.” She nodded. “That’s all I have for now.” 

“That is more than enough, Emma.” 

She smiled at him. Thankful he had seen things her way. And made her way now to her father’s office to tell him her confrontation had worked. A part of her wanted to pick up the phone and call Killian. The fact of the advice he had offered being the same as her father’s adding a touch of warmth to her perpetually skeptical heart. He wouldn’t want to hear from her midday though. Not to gab about her personal choices anyway. She decided against calling him, opting to simply find her father and let him know she had taken his advice. A little bit of a skip to her step. 

 

Emma was had decided to have her family over for dinner that night. She had invited Ruby, her mother, father, and Neal. She had spent little time doing family things in the past few weeks and wanted to some way make it up to Henry. Before she and Neal had broken things off after Henry was born, he had been a big part of her family. He had been abandoned by his own mother, and his relationship with his father was tumultuous. David and Mary Margaret had done their best to provide him with some version of a family. And now, though they were no longer together, they shared a son. So Neal was a great presence in her life. In all of their lives. And they all wanted him to feel included, if it could somehow make up for the broken state of his own family. 

She hadn’t cooked, Emma couldn’t really cook. If it didn’t come from a box with three steps of instructions then it was beyond her skill set. Henry, however, was much better. It must have come from David or someone else because his cooking abilities most certainly were not from her. In the kitchen, Ruby, Henry and David busied themselves with preparing different parts of the meal. Her best friend at the central island chopping vegetables, Henry concocting a sauce over the hot stove, David working on the chicken and pasta. Even Mary Margaret was tossing together a salad and cutting slices of Tuscan bread for their meal. Emma felt more in the way than anything else. 

“Hey, Em can you pour us some glasses of wine?” David asked looking up from whatever it is he was doing, Emma wasn’t entire sure. “Pretty please?”

“Red or white?” She smiled back at him. He always found ways for her to help in the kitchen despite also knowing how much she hated cooking. 

“Red!” everyone said almost at once. Emma startled back a bit amused from the confidence in unison that everyone had picked the wine. 

“I’ll have a lemonade.” Henry joked. Being the only one in the room who was under 21. 

“I’ll go see what I have.” She was heading into the living room where she kept a small wine rack when there was a knock on the front door. She heard heavy boots making their way down the hall and in walked Neal with a bottle of wine and a pastry box with the chocolate cake Emma and Henry loved from the market. 

“I brought the necessities.” He smiled holding up the cake and wine. Just in time, she thought to herself. 

 

Mid dinner, Emma was taking another bite of the chicken piccata Henry, David and Ruby had made when her phone beeped. She looked down in her lap as discreetly as possible, wondering who it could be when everyone she ever really talked to was sitting around her kitchen table. Her heart skipped a little when she read the name that came up on the front screen. Killian Jones. Had sent her a fucking text. 

_Killian: Are you free to meet for a drink later?_

She didn’t really know what to say. Was there something specific with the case he wanted to talk about? Did he have news he couldn’t wait to tell her? Something that had jogged his memory? 

Or perhaps… Emma slowly let the thought creep into her head… perhaps he just wanted to grab a drink together. Like friends did. Or something else. She was not up for interpreting between the lines. Looking at the table full of people around her, who she knew would not be leaving her house until she kicked them out late into the night, she sighed. There was no feasible way for her to sneak away and see him tonight. So she typed, regretfully and with nerves tingling at her fingers:

_Emma: I can’t tonight. Was there something important?_

Moments passed and nothing had come back. Conversation at the table had turned to roaring laughter as Neal made a joke Emma completely missed the first part of. She tried to focus on what was happening before her. In the present. But she couldn’t. She hoped she hadn’t upset Killian. That he understood she would go if she was able. But why did it even matter that much? A few seconds later and the welcome ting of his incoming text drew her gaze down to her lap where the phone was still placed. 

_K: Nothing to worry over. Just wanted some company._

_E: Perhaps another night?_

_K: I’ll hold you to that, love ;)_

_E: Please do._

As much as she knew it was the complete wrong thing to do, but the man had sent a fucking winky face. She began typing away and before thinking hit send. 

_E: Your company isn’t something that bothers me all too much._

 

Hours had gone by. Henry had gone up to sleep. David, Neal and Mary Margaret had all left. Ruby remained though. Which meant she and Emma were posted up in the movie room drinking all that was left of the wine and eating bites of cake straight from the box with forks. Emma had almost forgotten her little text exchange with Killian earlier in the evening. The combination of a partial food coma and being wine drunk with her best friend. But when she went to check her phone for the time she realized there was an unopened message from him from several hours earlier. 

_K: Is that so?_

Fuck she had forgotten the last thing she had texted him had been her version of borderline flirting with him. But there was no way he could have picked up on that. Not simply over a text that could have been equal parts friendly. He probably wasn’t still awake. It was after midnight.  
“Who’s that?” Ruby asked, noticing Emma had been staring at her phone far too long. 

“What?” 

“Oh my god.” The look that came over Ruby’s face was not anger like Emma expected… but a smile? “It’s him isn’t it. You’re texting him aren’t you?” 

“I have no idea who you’re talking about Rubes.” But the wine sloshing around in Emma’s head made it difficult for her to maintain her usually cool composure when asked uncomfortable questions she would rather ignore. 

“I knew it. There totally is something going on between you two.” Her friend was still smiling though, ridiculous as this all was. 

“Who???” 

“Killian fucking Jones. Em...” Ruby tilted her head in Emma’s direction as if to say ‘level with me here the jig is up’. 

“We just spend a lot of time together because of the case is all.” 

Ruby held up her phone, clicking the home screen to show Emma there were no incoming messages. “I work in the same place you do. On the same case as you. You don’t see me getting texts from Killian Jones after midnight.”

“Maybe you do, and if you do that’s your business.” Emma’s heart panged at even the mere thought. Though she knew Ruby was kidding there was a part of her that didn’t want Killian texting someone else asking to go for a drink. All casual like he was James Bond or something. 

“Well. I’m not. And you are. So let’s think of something fun for you to say to him.” 

“I’m not going to respond. It’s late he’s probably asleep.” 

“There’s only one way to find out…” 

“Ruby I don’t want to wak-”

“He’s awake, Em. Trust me.” Her best friend grabbed the phone right out of Emma’s hands and began typing away. There was little she could do and maybe the truth was more along the lines of there wasn’t much she wanted to do to prevent another message being sent to him. To her surprise Ruby handed the phone back to Emma before sending the message. She looked down to read what had been typed up. 

_E: I think we both know the answer to that._

Without thinking she hit send and threw her phone face down on the couch before her. Ruby’s mouth dropped. Clearly she hadn’t expected Emma to actually hit send. She put her head down. The weight of what was going on and the red wine and the feeling of someone maybe working their way into all of that. Not just someone. Him. 

“Oh my god.” Emma picked her head up looking to the brown eyes of her best friend. “I can’t believe you actually sent that.” 

“I can’t believe it either.” And she couldn’t. 

Despite the phone facing downward in the cushions they both heard the unmistakable sound of an incoming text message. Emma flipped it up and opened the message. Both girls leaning over the phone to read through the words. 

_K: The feeling is mutual darling. Sleep well._

 

The next morning Emma woke with a wine hangover the size of the state of Texas. Her head was aching. She felt overwhelmingly nauseous and to top it all off she had to go into work today. Gathering herself from the couch she had slept on she shook Ruby to wake her up. After the amount of wine they had consumed and the late hour of the night the two had fallen asleep across from each other on the sectional. 

“Rube come on we have to go to work.” It was early enough that Emma could see her son off to school so she packed a lunch for him before going to wake him up as well. Thanking her internal clock for getting her up early enough that she had time to shower. Her hair was a rats nest of blonde tangles. She had not slept well at all. Sleep well. The end of Killian’s message appearing in her head. Oh my god. She had drunk texted him. And he had responded. Jesus. No more of that, she thought. Now that the morning had arrived and she was no longer loosely clinging to being tipsy. 

She and Ruby arrived at the office to find that they were the last ones into work. The parking lot already filled with their coworker’s cars. As they made their way into the office everyone they worked with seemed to be clumped around one desk in particular, talking in hushed tones. The only two people not in the room were David and Graham. 

“What’s up guys?” Ruby asked fully taking in how odd everyone looked gathered in one spot when there was an entire room for them to be in. 

“You guys better go see David in evidence. He told us to tell you as soon as you got here.” Neal gave them a serious look as he spoke. Emma could only imagine there was one reason behind this. Something else had arrived at the doorstep of the police station this morning. Another clue. 

The two girls headed down the hallways to the evidence room where, sure enough, Graham and David stood behind the table. But before them was not a small envelope and letter like in the past. It was instead a medium sized cardboard box. The seal of the box had been opened and the sides were open revealing what had been inside. 

“You’re going to want to see this for yourself,” David said looking directly at Emma. It almost seemed like he was giving her a warning before she approached the table. 

Peering inside it was a pile of… paper? Ruby and Emma looked at one another confused before diving into what the papers were. They picked them up one by one and read the carefully written scrawl of handwriting across the half torn pages. They were probably close to one hundred of them all piled in. Emma scanned the words on each, a heavy feeling appearing in her gut as realization hit her. These were love letters. Between two people who were not supposed to be together. Each one mentioning the presence of infidelity. And the desire to see each other when they could. The words would be truly poetic under different circumstances. 

Parts of each letter had been ripped off. But most of them revealed the presence of one name in particular. 

_“My dearest, Moira.”_

_“Love always, MJ.”_

_“For my love, Moira.”_

The realization hit Emma like a truck, dropping the piece of letter that had been in her hand. It was clear that Brennan had not been the one who was unfaithful in the marriage. The affair at the time of their death was in fact being carried out by Moira Jones. And for the first time since this case reopened, Emma’s mind didn’t immediately dart to what she would do next with this evidence. She did not think of the steps in a sequence to getting to the bottom of this clue. 

No. Instead her heart sank in her chest, a heavy weight now on her as she feared how she would tell Killian this news about his mother without breaking his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooooo...... thoughts? Let me know! I'll update within the next week. Something big coming in the next chapter, so. Get ready 4 that. Thanks for reading :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all of your continued support and comments and kudos and just general amazing-ness!!! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing all rights to OUAT

Emma had spent so much of her time wishing for another clue to arrive at the police station. She had used so much energy wondering what the next piece of the puzzle would be. Laying awake at night staring at the ceiling trying to figure out the sequence of events that would have led to the murder of Brennan and Moira Jones. She had spent even more time with their son who was still very much so alive and very much so involved. And now here she was, given a massive piece of information and all she could think about was how much it would hurt Killian. 

The man had promised her his loyalty that day she followed him into the woods. That was the day he told her how badly he wanted to find out what had happened to them. For his mother. Whom he loved more than anything. And now he was going to find out that it hadn’t been his father stepping out on their marriage. No, it hadn’t been Brennan at all. It had been his mother, Moira, the woman who had protected him from his father’s wayward behavior. 

Emma thought back to the first day the case had reopened. The day she met Graham when she and David had driven out to the Jones mansion to scope the place out. It was also the day she had the clear memory of being in the home for the Christmas party when she was young. Running through the halls, playing with all of the other kids. And the very adult conversation she had walked in on. She hadn’t seen who the people were who were having the tense exchange but she could still hear their voices. 

_“For god sakes control yourself.” the woman had said._

_“I could say the same to you,” the man responded._

At the time Emma was young. She had thought little of it other than her social cues telling her it was a conversation she should not be in the room for. Now, years later, she wondered if it had been the beginning of a fight between Moira and Brennan. Moira, frustrated by the state of her marriage, yearning for another. Or could it have been that her lover was in the room with her, angry with her for not leaving her husband? Perhaps the affair hadn’t even started yet and that had only been the start to the wreckage that became their relationship?

“Em, you okay?” Ruby’s low voice in her ear brought her back to reality. She was still in the evidence room. Her father and Graham not two feet from them. Emma hadn’t realized that her jaw had dropped at the discovery so she quickly shut it hoping no one had really noticed. They had. 

“Yeah I uh, I’m fine. Just a little surprised I guess,” she lied. 

“The Jones brothers and their lawyer will be here in an hour. I called Miss Mills this morning telling her to notify them to come in today,” David said. Emma looked up at him. There was no way he could know why she was so nervous about telling them. 

“So we will need to come up with new lists of possible people this affair could have been with. I have Belle and the rest of the research analysts from Graham’s team looking into names Mrs. Jones associated with.” David took a few steps closer to Emma, trying to survey her odd behavior for himself. “Killian and Liam will have to come up with ideas of their own. We’ve contacted other members of the family.” 

“Is there anything you would like for me to do specifically?” Emma asked, hoping with all of her might that he would say no. 

“We’ll need you to be in the conference room taking notes when we tell them. I’ve had some photographs taken of the letters but I’d rather not have several new hands touching the actual paper so if you would compile them onto a flash drive we can use,” Graham looked at her as he spoke. Perfect. They were about to lay this awful information out and it was Emma’s job to make the fucking slideshow for it. 

“Emma and I will work on it.” Ruby answered for her. Picking up on her friend’s hesitation. She pulled Emma’s arm out of the evidence room and into the hallway to give them some privacy. “What’s wrong, Em?” 

“Nothing. I’m fine. I just… this is gonna be hard to tell them about.” 

“You mean, this is going to be hard to tell Killian about?” 

Emma looked at Ruby. She couldn’t deny it. Her reaction had been too telling. It was frustrating beyond belief. She wasn’t supposed to have any kind of emotional response at all.

“He will be really upset,” Emma said finally. But that didn’t necessarily explain why she was so upset. 

“Do you have.. Feeli-” Ruby began to ask, looking at Emma with an understanding face. 

“Don’t.” Emma put her hand up cutting her best friend off and walking toward her desk. That conversation was over as far as she was concerned. 

An hour had gone by. Emma knew she could call Killian. Give him some time to process this before he got to the police station. She knew it was the right thing to do. Given how strongly he felt about his mother. It was easier to cope with it being Brennan who had the affair. His relationship with his father was never good. But his mother? She was the only source of light in his life that he spoke of, however rare it was. The news would not be easy to swallow. 

But in the end she didn’t call him. She made every excuse in the book not to call him. It was a cowardly move. And she could come up with a hundred reasons why she didn’t do it but she knew there was really only one. She didn’t want to be the one to tell him, she didn’t want to be the one who hurt him. Couldn’t bear the thought of delivering the news. So she waited until they arrived with their lawyer. 

Once she saw him though. Her thoughts shifted. He walked through the main room of the office where she was sitting at her desk pulling together the last bits of photographs Graham had wanted she and Ruby to assemble. His blue eyes met hers and he already seemed a little off. He didn’t smile. He was probably wondering why she hadn’t warned him he would be called in today, as she had been doing lately. She had made sure she kept him several steps ahead of what was going on within the police force. But today she hadn’t. And it was perhaps one of the most crucial time of all to have done it. 

Gathered in the conference room, the usual group was around the table. Killian, Liam and Regina on one side. Graham, David, and Emma on the other. Though everyone else in the office was milling about trying to catch glimpses through the glass walls of what was going on inside. Emma was facing Killian. Of fucking course. And he seemed tense, the fact that he didn’t know what was about to happen making it all that more difficult to look him in the eye. She directed her gaze down at her hands that were now folded across the table. 

“This morning we were given another piece of evidence that shifts the tides of which way we were looking at the investigation,” Graham began to speak. Emma still couldn’t look at Killian though she could feel him looking at her. “Uh, Emma why don’t you pull up the photos.” 

Well if there was any chance of her playing this off like she didn’t know what Graham and David had discovered that was blown now. As she walked over to the laptop at the far end of the room and set up the photos. They began playing on a loop on a large projection screen at the head of the table. All eyes were on them, except for Killian’s who still had his on Emma. He looked angry. So so angry. 

“We received a box of torn love letters that indicate an adulterous affair between two people. While we do not know who was on the other end of the letters we do know that one of the parties involved was your mother, Moira Jones.” 

The photos now were zoomed in to show the depictions of their mother’s name scrawled out in ink. Slide by slide they went through showing as much of them as they could while Graham continued to speak. 

“As you can see this changes the direction of the investigation. We are no longer looking for the person having an affair with your father. The main focus will now be toward Moira and discovering whom she was involved with.” 

Emma glanced at Regina who was taking notes down on her legal pad, ultimately unaffected by the news. Then she looked at Liam who looked pained but composed, taking in the contents of the photos before him on the large screen. Then she braced herself to look at Killian. Whose blue eyes glistened with the barest hint of tears as he watched the screen. She watched him take a deep breath in and pull it together, only to look in her direction. Anger. She only saw anger. His jaw was clenched. His body language was the same. He was wound tighter than a top. And most of it right now was all directed at her. Her stomach lurched. She felt awful. 

The rest of the meeting a large knot formed inside her. With every glance at Killian he seemed to be more and more frustrated. But everyone else in the room was unaware of it except her. She knew. 

Graham and David led most of the meeting. Telling them there would be a televised police press conference tomorrow in front of City Hall if they would like to come. After their meeting in Boston the chief had thought it would be a good idea to get the word out that the investigation had reopened and to call in if you had any information. 

The only time Emma had to talk was toward the end when she instructed the boys to come up with lists of people they remembered their mother associating with that could have been a potential candidate. They also needed contact information for close family and friends that Moira may have confided in about the affair. It took all Emma say those few sentences without blurting out an apology. He felt ambushed. She was supposed to have Killian’s back. She had promised. 

“That will be all for today, we thank you for coming in and we will see you in a few days to go over the lists.” David shook everyone’s hands as they left. Neither he or Graham any the wiser to the conflict between Emma and Killian. 

She wanted to chase after him. Follow Killian to his car and explain herself. Apologize for him feeling like she betrayed him. Hold him, comfort him, drive away with him. Tell her she regretted not calling him before and how about they go for that drink tonight instead? She didn’t want him to be angry with her. But he was. And judging by the look on his face that he gave her before storming out, he didn’t want to talk to her. She would give him space. 

Emma ran to the bathroom needing a few minutes to herself before going back to work. There would be no time for her to get in her car and drive off today. There was enough to be done. She locked herself in a stall and took deep breaths trying to calm herself. You’re a cop, Emma. She told herself. At the end of the day you’re a fucking cop not a therapist. You don’t owe him anything for doing your job. Eventually she regained enough composure to get back to work. She had a job that needed to be done. Whether Killian liked the answers they came up with or not she was still going to find out what had happened to Moira and Brennan Jones. And she knew the solution would not be pretty. 

 

The next day was the press conference held by the police force. Emma was beyond nervous. She wasn’t great at public speaking… or being on television… or being the one answering questions instead of asking them. But it was an order. She had to go with the rest of her team. They were being broadcast nationally to inform the rest of the country that the case had reopened. And they needed tips. The Boston detectives and their chief were getting tired of waiting on the anonymous note sender to give clues. The hope was that people would begin calling in as soon as they got word. While they knew most of it would be absolute garbage, there would always be some useful information that came from it. No matter how small. Publicity was publicity. 

The entire police force met at the station beforehand for a briefing. Everyone wore their dress uniforms. Dark blue with gold buttons. Emma’s was a blazer with a pencil skirt. She wore dark tights and heels that pinched her feet. It was probably the most dressed up she had been since her graduation. 

Mary Margaret had made Emma come over to their house an hour before going to the police station so she could take pictures of she and David. 

_“Oh, look at you guys. All dressed up.” She snapped a picture of them standing on the porch._

_“Mom. Relax.” Emma was already irritable due to the nature of how things had gone in the office yesterday. Following the departure of the Jones brothers and their lawyer she threw herself into her work. Not even breaking for lunch._

_“Okay, one more picture and I’ll let you go. I’m DVR’ing the whole thing,” Mary Margaret gushed. Continuing to take twenty more pictures before she relented and let them go._

“We clean up good,” Ruby noted looking around at the rest of the people in the room who usually came to work in jeans and a t shirt. The office was a casual place, not a whole lot of need for the formality of a uniform. 

“Yeah but these shoes are killing me already.” Emma bent to adjust the thin strap that went over her ankle. This would be a long day. 

When they arrived at City Hall, a large crowd of people had already assembled. A mix of photographers, local newspapers, television stations, most of the people who lived in Storybrooke. Henry and Mary Margaret were amongst the crowd, missing part of their school day to be here. Emma felt her throat tighten a little when she saw that Liam Jones and Regina were also there. Waiting near the front of the clump of people where the podium was. She scanned but did not see Killian. 

The entrance of the police force caused a silence amongst the crowd, signaling that it was alright to begin soon. David was up first, he would be giving most of the address as he was the Sheriff. Graham would be giving a brief speech about his team’s involvement. Then Emma would be ending things requesting that if anyone had any information to call the hotline. She was not looking forward to this. Not even a little bit. 

“Good morning, Liam,” Emma greeted the elder Jones brother who was arguably the more pleasant Jones brother as well. 

He smiled in kind at her, the wrinkles near his eyes showing. “Good morning.” He gave her a knowing look as he saw her eyes searching around him. “He isn’t coming, Emma. I’m sorry.” 

To say she hadn’t expected Liam to explain his brother’s absence would have been a lie. She had. She just didn’t expect he would explain it to her so directly. But the look on his face wasn’t spiteful or angry, no he was being sincere. 

“I understand.” And she did. She had a job to do. Today and everyday she was the deputy sheriff of the Storybrooke police department. Liam smiled back at her as she walked away. He was awfully friendly compared to his brother. 

“You ready, Em?” David turned from his spot at the podium and looked at her. He hadn’t begun speaking yet, but he was about to. The camera crews for all of the local news stations were lined up. Microphones shoved from each and every direction. Flash bulbs went off seemingly every second. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a look of encouragement. Which was just the look she needed. To remind her that no matter what her dad was always here. 

“Good morning, everyone. As most of you already know, but for those of you that don’t I’m Sheriff David Nolan, Chief of the Storybrooke Maine police department…” he began and launched into a lengthy but organized speech about the efforts of the police department to bring justice to the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Jones. Then Graham took his turn at the podium, he was also a wonderful public speaker and addressed the crowd with confidence. She had big shoes to fill after those two. 

Finally it was her turn to speak. She had brought a few notecards with talking points on them but found that as soon as she stood in front of the microphone she knew exactly what to say. And the words all fell out of her mouth one right after the other just like they’re supposed to. 

“Here in Storybrooke, we’re a tight knit community. It’s a place you want to raise a family in,” she looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Henry standing next to her mother and David not far away, “where the local diner isn’t just a restaurant, it’s a place to gather and see the familiar faces of everyone you know. You don’t worry if your kid walks somewhere alone after dark or locking your doors at night. That’s the town I grew up in. It’s the only place I know. And it’s been an honor to serve this community as a law enforcement officer. But in this town we have a past. The murder of Brennan and Moira Jones is one of the most unsettling of our time. And it has gone unsolved for far too long. Someone out there clearly knows things we do not.” She paused thinking of all of the cryptic notes and hints that had been delivered recently. “And whoever it is needs to speak up. If you or anyone you know, has information about the crimes committed against the Jones family please call our hotline or send anonymous tips to our email service…. Thank you.” 

She stepped down from the podium to a surprising round of applause from everyone who had gathered. Looking around she saw all of the support, and all of the love from the local people. There were years and years of history and relationships between the people of Storybrooke. Realizing the immense amount of loyalty so many people had toward the town, Emma felt confident that someone would step forward and offer what they could about the case. It would get solved. And the tragedy could be put to rest. 

“You did great, Em.” David grabbed her by the shoulder not long after she stepped down. She felt like she could finally breathe now that it was over. “I owe you a grilled cheese. What do you say about lunch? I’m starved.” 

“I could really use some food. I didn’t eat breakfast,” she admitted sheepishly. Between the press conference looming and the fact that she was on not-so-great terms with Killian making her insides too shaken up to eat anything. But now that one was out of the way and taken care of she could certainly make room for her favorite meal. 

 

Everyone left the press conference and went straight to Granny’s for lunch. Ignoring the hounding questions from the media outlets. They had asked enough questions for the past two hours. The whole force was just about sick of having microphones shoved in their faces. The team took up most of the entire diner, it wasn’t all that big plus everyone had their families with them. 

“Hey Liam…” Emma had called to him right before they all walked to the diner. He looked like he was about to get into his car and drive off to wherever it was he was staying. “Why don’t you and Miss Mills come to Granny’s with us.”

He looked uneasy. So did Regina. But in the end they agreed and joined the rest of everyone else for some food. It wasn’t necessarily a ‘pop the champagne’ celebration. The case was still open-ended with a killer at large and a phantom note writer lurking, but everyone had been working rather tirelessly. Always on edge waiting for the arrival of the next clue, trying to gain as much as they could from the ones they had. It was exhausting. And a quick lunch at Granny’s wasn’t undeserved by anyone. She just wished there had been someone else here. 

Emma grabbed her phone and went outside to try calling Killian. Maybe now that the morning was over and things were looking a little brighter he would be willing to come down. Or at least have a conversation with her. The phone rang and rang. To no answer. Fuck. She said to herself. No one was outside on the patio with her so it didn’t matter anyway.What a stubborn man. But in a way she understood, she imagined her reaction in his position would not have been all that different. She spun on her heels, which she couldn’t wait to get out of, and began to walk back inside when she ran into a dark and heavily cloaked figure. 

“Miss Nolan.” It was Neal’s father. Cane and all. Making his way out of the diner. 

“Sorry, didn’t see you there,” she said when she regained her wits. But he still hadn’t moved from his spot in front of the door. 

“The fault is entirely my own.” She caught a glimpse of his one gold tooth he had when he gave her what he was trying to pass as a smile. A slight chill went down her spine when she caught sight of it. “Lovely speech you gave back there, dearie.” 

He finally stepped out of the way and began walking down the cobblestone path to the street. An odd feeling settling in her stomach as she watched him go. What Belle saw in the man she would never understand.

Following the lunch at Granny’s it was time for everyone to return to the office. There was plenty to be done and it was hoped that some information had come through the phone lines after the televised segment aired. Emma immediately got to work, wasting little time the rest of the day. She researched several people in the Jones family she could bring in and question. Searched the evidence files to see if there had ever been any record of an address book taken from the Jones house. She figured contacts from there would be a good place to start since the crime had taken place far before the smartphone era. It was well after dark when she shut her laptop deciding to call it a night. She looked at the clock, 8:30 pm. Neal had left several hours ago to take Henry for the night, promising to make sure he had a good dinner. She was off the clock. She could do what she wanted…. 

Emma got in the car after she left the office and just drove. She didn’t drive to her house where she should be going. She didn’t drive to the diner where she could maybe grab something to eat before the kitchen closed. She didn’t drive to her parents house to visit. She drove further. Outside of Storybrooke. About twenty minutes away to be exact. Where she would find the hotel of a certain someone, who she desperately needed to speak to right now. 

She felt bound. Tightly. In the clothes she still wore from the press conference. Her pencil skirt riding up as she pressed her foot to the gas pedal. She unbuttoned more than was necessary of her blue dress shirt. She had removed the matching police jacket. Her hair had fallen from the tightly clipped bun and now fell halfway down her back in loose curls. She didn’t call. She knew he wouldn’t answer. They hadn’t spoken at all since he found out the truth about his mother. Whether he was angry with the situation or with her for not properly warning him before he came in that day she was not sure. But he had taken a firm stance on shutting her out. So she drove. She drove to him to try to fix this in any way she could. She was supposed to have had his back but she didn’t. 

Pulling up to the hotel she felt more nervous than she had when she initially got in the car. She could feel her heart beating out of her chest. He could very well not even answer the door. Mustering all of the confidence she could she put her stupid pinchy heels back on her stockinged feet and marched inside headed straight for the concierge. For once she was dressed properly to be in the classy lobby, not her usual attire of torn jeans and knee high boots adorning her today. 

“Hi. I’m looking for Killian Jones’ room,” she said to the man at the front desk who was way too smiley for how wired she was right now. 

“Is Mr. Jones expecting you?” 

“Um, no not really.” 

“Well you need key access to get to his floor so if you would like I can call up for you?” 

What the fuck floor needed key card access couldn’t she just take the elevator and hammer on his door till her answered? Unless… 

“Yeah you can tell him that…” who could she possibly pretend to be that he would allow up? “Laura Jones is here to see him. His sister-in-law.” She remembered Liam’s wife. Seeing her at the diner that day with their little family. Laura was about Emma’s height, blonde hair. That was where the similarities stopped but the concierge didn’t have to know that. 

“I most certainly can, Mrs. Jones.” 

“Laura’s fine.” She smiled. The gravity of the use of the formal name a bit more than she could handle being called right now, even in this short exchange. The man had picked up the phone and began dialing. He looked at her apologetically as it appeared no one was picking up. And then his face became hopeful again. 

“Good evening, Mr. Jones. So sorry to have disturbed you but there is a Laura Jones here to see you. Can I-?”

Apparently he was cut off before he could finish the question because he was handing her a key card. If he had recognized her from the time she was here before or seeing her on the news today, he didn’t mention it. Instead he politely directed her to a man standing next to the front desk. He was massive, probably three heads taller than Emma and wore an all black suit with an ear piece. What was this guy supposed to be? Secret service? 

Emma looked down at the card in her hand expecting there to be a room number on it but the only indicator of where Killian’s room was came in the form of two words written in gold cursive script across the front: Penthouse Suite. 

Of fucking course. 

“Are you the gatekeeper?” Emma joked with the giant sized man. He led her to the central elevator that had a specific slot and key for the penthouse floor. 

“I’m just the escort, ma’am.” 

“Have a lot of people visited this particular floor um… recently?” she asked. She was fishing and judging by the break in his scowl as she asked her question, he knew it. 

“No, ma’am. You are the first.” He looked down giving her a knowing look. A wave of relief came over Emma. Even though she was no way entitled to know whether or not Killian had night time guests. He was a grown up. He could do what he wanted. Obviously. 

The elevator light above her head dinged, signifying they had reached the penthouse floor. The gold doors opened to what appeared to be the foyer of a very large looking suite. 

“I’ll leave you here, Mrs. Jones.” The man in the elevator winked at her before pressing the button to close the doors. And like that he was gone, with her standing in the massive space. Alone. 

“Killian?” she called out, hearing her own voice echo. The foyer was made of some kind of marble. A single spiral staircase scaling the rounded wall that was furthest from her. Central to the room was a circular mahogany table with an ornate floral arrangement in the center. The sound of the pitter patter of little feet came closer to her and she looked down to realize Princess, his dog, had trotted in to greet her. She licked Emma’s hands before running herself up the steps because her work as pseudo guard dog had been done. “Killian…. I’m sorry to do this but I needed to talk to you…” She called to no answer still. 

Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she made her way down a hall that opened up into what appeared to be the great room and kitchen area. The high ceilings were continued throughout making it seem huge. An entire wall of windows faced the city and all of its lights. She could see a few of them were actually doors that opened up to a patio. One of the french doors was left slightly open and a breeze blew at the gauzy drapes hanging across. 

“Killian…?” she walked towards the patio. Rounding the corner to find him sitting on a chaise lounge, staring out into the night sky. He looked so effortlessly handsome as he sat. A glass of amber liquid twirling about in his hand. His suit jacket thrown over top of another chair. His white dress shirt unbuttoned so far you could see much more of his glorious chest hair than the small amount that usually peaked out at the top. His legs were crossed and he made no move to look over at her as she stood mere feet from him. 

“I had figured it would be you,” he said after a few moments but not drawing his gaze away from the view of the city. She watched his hand swirl the glass with ice in his hand before taking another measured sip. “Mrs. Jones, is it?” 

He wasn’t wholly amused but he also hadn’t thrown her out yet so she followed his lead. If he wanted to be cold and distant she could out-stubborn him any day. But she knew she had been in the wrong. She felt she owed him some sort of an apology. That was what she came here for after all. 

“Killian… I had to talk to you. One on one.” She took a few steps closer to where he lounged but he still did not make any move to look at her. “I want to apologize. I should have tried harder to warn you what was coming. I made a promise to you.”

“You were just doing your job.” Still not looking at her. But she was looking at him. God. He was handsome. In the pale light of the moon he was even more gorgeous. But he looked angry, sad, and she knew she was partly to blame. 

“I promised you I would help find out what happened to your parents and that you wouldn’t have to be blindsided by the circus that is this investigation. But I was scared…”

“What on earth could you have possibly been scared of?”

“Of hurting you.” There. It came out. Now he was looking at her. Good God was he looking at her. Baby blues darkened with anger and hurt now fading into some sort of expression of understanding. “I knew how much your mother meant to you. It was easy for you to dismiss your father as an alcoholic.. And a maniac… and an adulterer but your mother? You hold her in such high regard. It was selfish and I shouldn’t have done it but I didn’t want to be the one who ruined that for you.” 

“Emma, you don’t have to apologize, darling.” He stood from his seat finally, crossing the little space that remained between them on the patio. Her eyes darted down ever so quickly to glance at his exposed chest hair. She hoped he didn’t notice. “You’ve done more than enough for me during this investigation. I have no right to be angry with you for doing your job.” 

There was a hint of forgiveness in his voice the closer he got to her. And now they were face to face less than a foot apart. She looked into his eyes searching for something, anything, the smallest sign of him not being genuine in the way that he looked at her. She found nothing but… relief.

“The real anger is directed at my parents… but as they’re not here I took it out on you. And for that I am truly sorry.” He pushed a lock of hair from her face as he spoke, his fingers just barely grazing her skin. The act itself feeling so intimate for the conversation they were having. But she wasn’t upset by it. On the contrary, the way her skin ignited when he touched her, she would go as far to say she liked it. “Sometimes I can be a real stubborn ass. Ask anyone.” His humor now making the air a bit less suffocating. 

“You’re not the only one who’s a bit hard headed.” 

“And just who might that be?” he teased. 

“I’m not the most… receptive person. But just know that I didn’t mean for you to end up angry with me over all of this. Even if your anger was misguided.” 

“You’ve kept me sane… for the most part while I’ve been back here, Emma. Turning on you at this point would be unwise.” He was being utterly and fully honest with her. She knew it. And it terrified her. Because she felt the same toward him. 

“I meant what I said the other night. I don’t mind your company, Killian.” She smiled and looked down at her feet that were screaming at her for still continuing to wear the heels. 

“Aye, and I meant what I said. The feeling is mutual.” He took a step closer. She didn’t even know that was possible. Her breath held in her throat looking up at him, their eyes boring into one another. She inched a bit closer, not sure what else to do. Not sure what else she wanted to do. It certainly wasn’t be farther away from him, she knew that much. 

“Emma...” he was looking down now, his voice sounding like he was almost in pain. She looked at him trying to gauge what he would say next. Her stomach twisted in on itself as she waited with held breath for the next words to come out of his mouth. “Your heel is on my foot.” 

Fuck. She looked down and quickly pulled her black pump off of his right foot. She felt like an ass. Of course he wasn’t going to pour his heart to her right there. This wasn’t going to be an emotional confession of feelings. Because there weren’t any feelings to confess. That would be crazy. Because she was crushing his fucking foot. 

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry, does it hurt badly?” She started to bend down checking to see if it had reddened at all but appeared fine. 

“You’ve not much practice wearing those, have you?” he asked joking. 

“I’m not really a skirt and heels kind of girl.” 

“They suit you rather well though, love.” He eyed her up and down, fully taking in her figure. He was so used to seeing her in jeans and leather. Not a form hugging skirt and tights. She rolled her eyes at his choice to not hide his wandering gaze. Though there was a part of her that liked it. And a warm feeling appeared in low in her belly. 

“Was I supposed to take that to be a compliment?” 

He walked away from her, lifting his hand to signal she should follow him in the double doors that led to the great room. “Take it however you like, darling.” 

The lights were dim in the great room. A large white sectional couch being the focal point of the space. A modern glass fireplace was lit on the wall that contained the television. Princess had made her way back downstairs and was asleep on the couch. 

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, walking over to the bar in the corner of the room. “I have rum, whiskey, vodka, tequila…..?” She should probably just go home. He had forgiven her. They had reached a good point. Just leave. 

“Actually, do you have any tea?” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” He smiled and went to the kitchen that was open to the living room. He seemed to be scoping out the cabinets and found some lavender tea that would do just fine. She plopped down on the far side of the couch so as not to wake the sleeping dog. One cup of tea wouldn’t hurt her. She would leave right after. 

“This room would be perfect for movies,” Emma said as he returned with not one but two cups of tea. Leaving his rum at the bar. “We have a room in my house where Henry and I watch movies but the screen isn’t nearly this big.” 

“Henry?” He looked puzzled. Had she never told him about her son? 

“My son. Henry.” She gauged his reaction to see if he was at all overwhelmed but his expression remained engaged in what she was saying. “We’re big movie critics. So I converted the dining room.” 

“Seems practical.” He sipped his tea and smiled at her, this time it reached his eyes. “And the boy’s father?”

“Neal… he’s a cop too. You’ve met him.” She wasn’t sure if she was disclosing too much but he didn’t seem to mind. He had asked her about the father after all. “I got pregnant in high school.” 

He seemed to be nervous to say whatever he was going to say next, his fingers toying with the handle of his mug, looking down at the steaming liquid. “And are you and Neal…?”

“Not together. We haven’t been for a long time.” Had she answered that a little too quickly? 

“Ah, I see.” He sipped his tea, she wasn’t sure but she swore he was hiding the hint of a smile. 

They sat on the couch for a while. For far more than one cup of tea. The only thing between them being the sleeping form of Princess the dog, who was oblivious to the physical boundary she was setting. They talked, about things unrelated to the investigation. Asking each other simple questions as the conversation flowed easily. Killian, absentmindedly stroking the head of his sleeping dog. It was comfortable. The way she felt right now. Slowly she relaxed into the couch, tucking her legs up underneath her. Outside of the high charged intense environment they had been in before, it seemed like the two could let their guards down if only just a little bit. 

Emma hadn’t realized how late it was until she peaked at her phone. 2:06 am. Jesus. She thought. When was the last time she had been out this late someplace that wasn’t a bar? He watched her check the time and prepared for her to get ready to leave, following her to the elevator doors in the foyer where she had entered. Much to her chagrin she put the stupid pinchy heels back on to walk back to her car. 

“Well, thank you for letting me in even though I sort of ambushed your hotel room,” she joked. He smiled at her. They were standing face to face now, as she was a bit taller in her shoes. 

“Perhaps next time you won’t have to pretend to be my sister-in-law to get in.” His eyebrow quirked up as he looked at her. She caught herself glance at his lips that had gone from a smirk to a stone cold stare in seconds. 

“Yeah well, scaling the walls of the hotel wasn’t an option in this outfit.” 

“Of course not.” 

They stared at each other. The light air in the room had gone thick the longer they went without speaking and moving. The electric current between them more present than ever. Emma couldn’t ignore it. This didn’t happen when she was near anyone else. It was… intoxicating. He was a hairsbreadth from her face, his lips so close to hers, his eyes glanced down at hers. She turned and took a step away, needing to think clearly. She hit little yellow elevator button. He didn’t move. 

When the elevator arrived the doors opened to reveal that the big, giant elevator man who had escorted her up was not there like Emma was expecting him to be. 

“Good night, Emma.” She turned one more time to look at him. As he stood there in his massive hotel room. His chest hair hanging out of his shirt. She wanted to run her fingers through it. Just to feel him. Just to be that close. But instead she put her back to him and began taking steps toward the elevator. She paused at the threshold. Fuck. Don’t do it, Emma. Keep walking. 

“Killi-,” she started to say as she turned back around to face him but she didn’t have to finish. He had grabbed her hand and pulled her entire body flush up against his in one swift movement that left her breathless. 

In an instant his lips were on hers. Meeting for the first time. Moving slowly but urgently. His hand went up to the back of her head, resting the other at the small of her back. The fluttering inside her traveling until it rested right at her center where she felt her desire for him growing more and more. She released the barest of moans as his tongue darted to her lips, demanding they open to allow entrance. She granted it with willingly, their tongues engaging in what could only be described as a passionate tango for dominance. Coming up for air only when necessary. 

Their close proximity gave her full access to feeling his entire lean form. His hand reaching up and pulling her hair, allowing him to enter at a better angle. Deeper. Harder. With his tongue unapologetically chasing hers. His other arm roving over the most intimate curves of her body God did it feel good. Finding a spot on her thigh just beneath her ass. She could barely contain herself. The leg he had grabbed began to wrap around his hip, pulling them closer as her arms went around him. One grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck. 

How was it possible that they were this close and still not close enough? He growled as she began to roll her hips into his. Needing the fire burning at her core to find some sort of relief. Any relief. Feeling his desire for her evident against his pants. Hard against the tights on her leg. She got carried away and wanting to taste him she bit his bottom lip, sending a moan from the back of his throat before she felt him pull away. 

“Emma… darling.” He was breathless as he spoke. His lips now no longer on hers and she missed them. Wanted him back immediately. But she didn’t push. She just looked at him. Incredulous. Her heart about to beat out of her fucking chest. His piercing eyes on her green ones. She could see the mark she had left on his lip, a small amount of blood beginning to coat the bottom. “That was… If we don’t stop… I can’t…”

His inability to form a clever, quick witted sentence was both satisfying and relatable to her. She wasn’t sure she could come up with anything either. But she knew what he was trying to say. So with all of her willpower she released her hold on him and took a few steps back. 

“I’ll um, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She was certain her cheeks were bright pink but she didn’t care. All she could see was blue. A deep, gorgeous blue. 

“Good night, Killian.” She stepped into the elevator and slid the card into the slot to go down. 

“Good night, love.” The last thing she saw as the doors to the elevator closed was the sight of him bringing his fingers up to the spot on his lips she had bitten, tasting the blood, as a smirk came across his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is always appreciated, have a lovely rest of your weeks everyone! :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All rights to OUAT I own nothing :) 
> 
> Also, thank you all for reading and leaving feedback on my story, it truly warms my soul to see the thoughts you all have on what I create. 
> 
> Full disclosure, this chapter is rated M.

A week had gone by. A full week. A level of avoidance settling between the two that was almost comical. Almost. The kiss that had left Emma completely restless in her bed. Tossing and turning. Not able to reach any kind of real release because her entire body just wanted to feel him. But he wasn’t there. 

The day after the kiss had by far been the worst. Having to sit across from the man she had given her lips so willingly to, not twelve hours prior. The way he looked at her, like he felt the same, was even more terrifying. She caught sight of his lip. The very place she had bitten and left her mark. At the time it had been a move of desperation. To taste him, a hint of the iron in his blood. She had always inherently been a rough lover but never during kisses. And especially not a first kiss. What had come over her had been almost animalistic in its act. 

“What in the world happened to you?” Liam whispered in the conference room before discussions began. But it was loud enough that Emma could hear him. 

“Just a bite mark, brother. Nothing to worry yourself over.” Killian gave no indication of anything on his face. Emma thought of the time he had referred to himself as a gentleman, hoping Killian had kept their little interaction a secret from his older brother. 

Liam didn’t push any further but when Emma caught sight of his face he looked utterly amused. Glancing in her direction. There was no way Killian had told him anything. At least she hoped he hadn’t. But then she thought of the day of the press conference, when Liam had very softly whispered to her that Killian wouldn’t be there without her even having to say it. Frustration boiled within her. 

Killian did not seem to much mind, making absolutely no effort to cover the smirk that crossed his face when he caught her looking at his lip. Running his tongue over it ever so subtly that no one else in the room took notice. A warm feeling appeared between her thighs at the sight of his tongue. She caught herself wondering what else he could do with that thing but quickly scolded herself. She was at work. There was no time for this here, no time for it anywhere in her life. But my God was he tempting. 

“It’s come to our attention that your mother saw a therapist a few times. About a year before the murder we have a record of several visits with a Dr. Archibald Hopper,” David said to kick their meeting off with the Jones’ and Regina. 

“We’ve made efforts to contact him but his practice has since moved from the area.” Emma stood, projecting the image of the man in question onto the screen. A redhaired, friendly looking man in glasses and a tweed coat. Next to it a list of addresses for the places he had practices since the murder. Emma had made the discovery while going through Moira’s old address book. It had been sitting, untouched in the evidence room since the first investigation years ago. There was seemingly no record of it in the files otherwise. Which she thought was odd. 

“He’s had five known addresses since his office in Storybrooke and has been difficult to track down but I managed to get a call in through his secretary… after many many tries,” she said. She had spent most of yesterday playing phone tag with the illusive therapist. “Luckily I’m stubborn enough that I was able to get through.” 

A light chuckle filled the room, but a knowing look was on Killian’s face when she looked at him and her body tensed. 

“Once I talked to her I had him call me back and he did. His office is in Florida now, but he’s agreed to come here for questioning. I’m working on obtaining the patient records but it’s a lengthy process so I will keep everyone posted.” 

Everyone in the room gave a slight nod at her as she sat down, having given her speech and brought everyone to date on the progress she had made she felt good. The therapist thing was a conclusion she had reached entirely on her own from good old fashioned snooping. No note. No hint. No cryptic clues. It was a small step but definitely one in the right direction. She could feel it. 

Emma could also feel the brush of a pant leg up against hers. It was brief, and ever so chaste but the rush of current from the contact gave her a good indication of whose leg it had been. In addition to the look of confidence across the blue-eyed gaze of the man sitting before her who had done it. Her face felt flushed. She hoped she wasn’t red but knew the feeling well enough that it probably was.

The meeting ended but not quickly enough. She raced out the door and returned to her desk without so much as a goodbye to the people who had been in the conference room with her. And especially not Killian Jones. 

The next day she was at Granny’s early. Before going into work she decided to stop and grab a coffee and some donuts for the people in her office. The place was basically empty since it was so early on a weekday. Save for one solo patron sitting on a stool at the bar, slowly working on an omelette and a cup of black coffee. Sure enough when the man looked up at her, she was drowning in a sea of blue eyes. 

“Killian…” her voice didn’t hide the surprise… and perhaps something else in it, as the name fell from her lips. She felt her muscles tense as he smiled at her, trying not to give any indication of how affected she was. 

“Hello, darling. How are you this morning?” The smile that spread across his face hindered by the site of the now healing cut on his lip. She wanted it gone. Though she had been the one to put it there. It was a constant reminder of something she was trying desperately to forget. 

“I’m fine. Just needed coffee before I start my day.” She looked away from him. Focussing on Granny instead, who had approached her from behind the bar to take her order. “A medium cinnamon coffee and a dozen donuts to go, please.” 

Granny nodded, taking down the order and heading to the back where the baked goods were kept. Leaving the two alone once again. 

“Something wrong, love?” 

“Nope. I’m good.” 

“You can tell me, you know. I won’t bite…” 

Her eyes involuntarily widened at his words. The fucking nerve of him. He seemed pretty pleased with himself at the remark. He was winding her up. In ways she didn’t even know she could be wound. And the sick part of it was she wasn’t so much angry as she was wanting. She wanted that kiss again and she hated herself for it. She was an investigator on the murder of his parents, she had to work with him, amongst one million other reasons there could never be anything there. Nothing between them. 

“One coffee and a dozen donuts for the deputy.” Granny returned in the knick of time. “Here you go, Miss Nolan. I snuck a bearclaw in there for Ruby. You and I both know they’re her favorite.” 

“I’ll make sure your granddaughter gets it, thank you.” Emma slid $20 on the counter and Granny took it to the register, just as someone came out of the men’s room in the back. 

“Emma! What a surprise.” It was Liam. Apparently someone else had been dining with Killian this morning. Emma internally groaned not wanting to deal with her back and forth about whether or not Liam was aware of her behavior toward his brother. “Will you be joining us?” 

Liam took his seat next to Killian and looked at his brother with a smirk. Oh God. He totally knew. 

“No I have to get to the office.” She held up the soft pink box that held the donuts. “But you two enjoy.” 

She looked at Killian. He seemed a bit embarrassed himself. It was almost endearing. Almost. But Emma shook whatever that thought was out of her brain and waved good bye to the two, never had she needed to leave Granny’s faster. 

As she was about to get in her yellow bug parallel parked on the street out front she heard her name, “Emma!” 

She loaded the donuts and coffee into the passenger seat and cupholder, trying to get away before the voice caught up to her but it was too late. 

“Emma.. wait.” She turned to find Killian mere feet away from her. His black trench coat slowly getting wet from the light dusting of rain. He didn’t seem to care much. He just looked at her. 

“What?” her voice came off more frustrated than she wanted it to. As she looked at him, giving her an expression that wasn’t cocky, wasn’t all bravado and innuendo, but vulnerable, she realized she didn’t want to hurt him. But she also didn’t want to address all of the… complications that came with her being around him. 

“We should talk… about the other night.” He looked pained as he spoke. Probably flustered by her general tactic of avoidance. 

“You didn’t.. I mean I’m just… it’s complicated, Killian.” She struggled to find her words. “That kiss… it can’t happen again. It wasn’t smart. It didn’t mean anything.”

“It didn’t?” 

“No. We just... It was impulsive. And wrong and inappropriate on so many levels.” 

“Is that how you really feel?” He could see right through her. Knew there was something brimming beneath the surfacey excuse she had given him. But she wouldn’t bend. She was stubborn. He knew that. 

“Why would you ask that?”

“Answer the question, Emma.” He took a step closer to her. “Just a yes or no.” 

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t.” He took another step. Her back was against the car. Every nerve in her body on end at how close he was. But there wasn’t a part of her that wanted him to stop. “Yes or no, darling?”

“I…” Her breath caught as she looked up at him. So so close. Little droplets of rain catching on his jet black hair. She was so overwhelmed and not used to this feeling at all. Her instincts kicked in. She remembered who she was. “I have to go to work. Goodbye, Killian.” 

He didn’t push her any further. They were out on a street, in public, where just about any passerby could see how close they were. How two people standing next to a bright yellow bug were unable to look away from one another. 

“Goodbye, Emma.” 

 

  
She drove into work. Rattled from the entire morning. But she had donuts and needed to keep her mind busy. 

“I brought snacks!” she announced when she walked in. A frenzy of her coworkers swarming her like this was the first food they had seen in weeks. She lit up as the simple gesture put little smiles on each individual’s face as they took donuts one by one. Robin taking 3 and sneaking off to his desk. 

“Thanks, Em.” David snuck up and grabbed one. “Good mood today?”

“Not the worst mood.” It was nice to know that amongst everything else that was occurring, the shit storm that was the investigation, he still paid attention to his deputy. 

“And a bearclaw for my best friend.” Last but not least she handed Ruby the pastry her grandmother had packed just for her. The brunette’s face softened but quickly returned to some sort of scowl. “Rube what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing… just a tough week.” 

Emma knew better than to take that as an actual answer. So instead of walking away she grabbed the arm of her friend and dragged her out to the lobby where they could have some privacy. Everyone else clearly occupied with their treats. 

“What’s really going on?” Emma asked quietly. 

“I’m just… I’m frustrated, Em.” Ruby sat down in one of the waiting room seats, resting her head in her hands. “I feel like I’ve been on too many bad dates lately to count.” 

Emma sat next to her friend and put an arm around her. She rarely got distraught over her dating life. Always putting on the front that she enjoyed having open relationships. But Emma knew her friend differently, she knew that at the end of the day Ruby had wanted a companion and she hadn’t had one since… 

“Hannah… Em, she’s back. She came back to town. I haven’t seen her since…” 

“Since she broke your heart?” 

“It’s been so long. I don’t feel any differently than I did when she left.”

“Has she contacted you?” Emma remembered Ruby post break up. It wasn’t pretty. But she had come a long way since then. 

“We went for drinks last night.” 

“And…?”

“She wants to see me again tonight. I just feel like I’m going back down the spiral.” 

“Rube, you put yourself out there. It’s one of the things I admire about you. Just because your dates have been bad lately doesn’t mean there isn’t someone else out there for you.” She considered her words carefully. “If you don’t put yourself out there, you’ll never know though.” 

“You’re right.” Ruby’s tears had ceased at least for the moment. The memory of the brunette’s ex-girlfriend disorienting for her. Emma slowly rubbed her back, trying to keep her calm. “You’re always right.” 

“I know,” Emma joked, a smile creeping onto Ruby’s face. Beneath the eyeliner-tear streaked cheeks was a girl who just wanted someone to be with. And what was so wrong with that? 

“Are you ever going to take any of your own advice, oh wise one?” 

“I’ve been thinking more about it every day.” 

“With Killian?”

“No… just with someone. A guy that I don’t know. That might be okay.”

Ruby looked at Emma, not going to push her after the display of tears and vulnerability. The last thing this lobby needed was two crying policewomen at 9 am. Instead she just stood and thanked Emma for understanding, as usual, and decided to let Emma come to her about her own dating life when she was ready. 

Once Emma re-entered the office, no one the wiser to the exchange with Ruby, she posted up at her desk, setting to work on the things she had planned. But her mind always came back to him. In one way or another she would feel in creeping into her psyche. It had been so long since she had been with a man. In any sort of way. The kiss meant nothing. She would have done it with any man she was with in that scenario.

Emma vowed to find a way to scratch the itch she had been having. And not with Killian. A date. Putting herself out there. The same advice she had just given her best friend. Perhaps it was time she should listen to her own suggestions. She would find a normal, regular guy to go out with. She would spend the night with him before leaving quickly the following morning, sated and content, her urges would be taken care of. It would fix everything. So she hoped. 

 

“Hey kid.” Oddly enough she was home this particular day when Henry got back from school. She sat on their wrap around front porch enjoying the early spring evening. A rarity in her life, an actual quiet moment. The setting sun streaking the sky with purples and pinks and oranges. The leaves on the trees had begun to fill in, which shielded their home from the nearby road. Emma had loved how private the house was. Tucked away in a corner of the town that no one ever really came to. 

“Hey mom, you’re home early today?” He sat down in the rocking chair next to Emma’s, his backpack falling to the side. 

“How was school?”

“Fine. Only a few more weeks until summer.” 

“Have you thought about where you want to go for vacation this summer?” 

“Will we even be able to?” He paused. “You’re so busy with the case, I didn’t think we would go anywhere.” 

“We can fit something in. It might not be until the end of summer though. Right before you start school.” 

He nodded and rocked back in the chair. Emma looked over at her son. It seemed like he grew more and more every day. She knew he was right about vacation. There was a real possibility that she would not be able to go anywhere. But she wanted him to have things to look forward to. He was an awfully serious kid, a trip somewhere new might be nice for him. For them. 

“Henry, I have to ask you something…” she started, a knot in her stomach. 

“What’s up?”

“How would you feel about me dating again?” She watched his face, waiting for something, anything that would indicate he wasn’t okay with it. But she didn’t catch anything. In fact, a smile crept onto his face. 

“You don’t need my permission, mom.” 

“I kind of do, kid. What you think matters to me.” She smiled back at him. “If you aren’t comfortable with it, then it isn’t something I want to do.” 

“I think it would be good for you to start dating again.” She looked into his eyes, they were a deep brown and sincere as he spoke. “You’ve been on your own for a long time. You deserve to find someone to spend your time with.” 

He was so calm and collected all of the time. Emma was continuously baffled at his maturity level. Especially when she was such a nightmare at that age. Sneaking out late at night. Riding in cars with boys much older than her. Dancing with the devil. 

“Do I ever tell you what a great kid you are?” 

“Only all the time, mom.” His cheeks took on a light pink hue and he looked down at his feet. 

“How about we go figure something out for dinner?” 

“Sounds good.” They both stood and made their way into the house. Emma wrapped her arm around her son even though he was almost taller than her now. He was still her little peanut. “You know, mom, if you get a boyfriend you’re gonna have to work less.” 

“Very funny, kid.” She rustled his dark brown hair and entered the kitchen. The early evening light cast shadows on the quaint, space. The brightest pop of color was in the blue stovetop. A splurge she had made the first time the old oven had broken. As she looked at her kid, begin to pull some ingredients from this shelf and that, she realized that perhaps it would be good for both of them if she had someone around. 

That night she called her mother to tell her she had talked to Henry about the possibility of dating. Mary Margaret was thrilled, naturally. She had only been trying to set Emma up with someone for about 300 years. 

“I have someone for you. He’s the nephew of one of the secretaries at the school,” her mother was so excited. Though Emma knew her real motive for doing this was less than pure, she was desperate. “I’ll tell her tomorrow.” 

“Mom, relax. It would just be a date. One. Singular.” 

“I know, I know. It’s just… I feel like it’s good that you’re open to it.” Her mother’s voice sounded so hopeful. She didn’t want to wreck this by telling her anything even resembling the truth behind her wanting to go on a date. 

“Yeah, well, it’s been long enough for me. I figure I can at least try it out.” 

“It never hurts to try, Em.” 

“I know, mom. Thank you.” 

 

Two days later her mother had secured a date with the secretary’s nephew for her. His name was Walsh Bradshaw, an accountant. Same age as Emma. Never married. No kids. An apartment in the city. She looked him up, running a general scan of his record to see if he had one. Nothing came up. He would suffice for the night. 

The day of the date, a Friday, Emma walked into work feeling a bit anxious. She wasn’t entirely sure why but it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that Killian would be in the office today. No. It had absolutely nothing to do with that. They had been in the conference room for a while, going over the address book, taking note of anything out of the ordinary. 

“Your mother’s address book was mostly names I had heard before. A lot of your family members, her friends…” Emma was in the room with Killian. Alone. Liam wouldn’t be there today. He had matters of employment to take care of, it had been weeks since he worked. 

“The therapist had been in here you said?” he asked flipping through a page. The tension that had been with them in their last interaction was still very much so there but they had an audience. So they were on their best behavior. The utmost levels of professionalism. That was until her fingers brushed his to show him an unfamiliar name. They both instinctively pulled their hands back. Too quickly. 

“Sorry,” she smiled at him half heartedly. 

“It’s quite alright, love.” But the way he looked at her told a different story. His eyes didn’t leave her. And she couldn’t even pretend not to notice. 

“So do you remember your mother seeing a therapist?”

“To be honest I can’t remember her not seeing one.” He leaned back in his chair, tenting his fingers in his lap. “I just always assumed it was about my father.” 

“Maybe it still was. People don’t just run around having affairs for no reason. She had to have some sort of motive for that.” 

“He was an ass,” Killian said pointedly. He toyed with something in his suit pocket. It glinted when it hit the light coming in from the windows, it appeared to be some sort of jewelry. 

“Was that hers?” 

“Yes.” He twirled the thing in his hand. “It was one of the last things she gave me.” 

“It’s lovely.” 

“A reflection of its owner.” He slipped the trinket back into his pocket and looked up at her. He still held her in such high regard despite the tragedy of his family’s past. He clearly had loved his mother very much, and his father not so. 

“I think it’s time we close this out,” she said, looking at the clock and realizing her date would be here within the hour. 

“I suppose it is, Miss Nolan.” The formality of it all was contradicting to what she felt inside. Her curiosity blooming as she stood from her seat. There was a part of her, a teeny tiny miniscule part of her, that wanted him to be the one that was picking her up for the date. But he wasn’t. So she shook his hand like a dutiful officer and ignored the charge that surged through her. 

In the office bathroom she did her best to ready herself. She had brought along her small make-up collection, a simple black dress that managed to hug her curves in all of the right places, and a black lace set of lingerie she only wore for evenings like this where she was expecting to find someone to share her bed. Thigh high tights pulled up under the skirt of her dress, red lips painted on, eyelashes primped. She was ready. Physically ready. But emotionally, her thoughts were somewhere else. 

She smoothed out her skirt and left the bathroom, running into a body as she came through the swinging door. The hard chest against her, she knew there was only one person it could be. 

“Emma…” Face to face with Killian with a start, his hands loosely on her waist as she had collided with him. “You look…” 

“I have a date.” She didn’t know why she told him. He didn’t have to know. But she still said it. And she could feel him up against her. All of him. 

“Ah, I see.” His hands that were on her waist fell as he stepped away. She ignored the ache that developed at her core from the loss of his touch. “Well, don’t let me keep you.” 

And he was off. Walking away from her without so much as a ‘goodbye, love’ as he usually did. He just stormed off. She watched him as he went. The handsome and brooding man escaping her once again. 

 

It was late. Everyone else had left hours ago. Emma was less than thrilled to be back in her office. Following what could only be described as the most uneventful first date ever. She had planned to spend the night with the man. Go back to his apartment with him. Have a few drinks under the false pretense of getting to know one another. Falling into a tangle of sheets and stripped clothes. Only to wake the next morning and never speak again. It was what she wanted, she had set out for it. But every last moment of her blind date, Walsh, was flat. He was by no means a terrible human and would probably make someone very happy some day. He would be a nice husband and a good provider and a loving father. Which were commendable things if Emma was the kind of girl who had them on her checklist… she was not. Her checklist consisted mostly of: unattached, no strings, and quick. 

So after dinner she told Walsh to drop her off at the station, she had left her car behind and all she wanted to do was drive it to her house to take a nice long bubble bath. Her vibrator would have to do… again, for the release she craved.

The office was quiet, the only noise was the soft buzz of the few fluorescent lights that remained on overnight. She needed her laptop, so she walked over to her desk to find it was right where she had left it. Sticking the device in her briefcase, she was just about to sling the bag over her shoulder when a familiar figure appeared in the doorway. 

There stood the shadow of a refined looking, half English gentleman. Dressed in jeans, a gray t-shirt and jeans. Hair lightly ruffled, stubble overgrown. Looking more like a Greek God than a man. All nonchalance and overinflated ego. 

“Killian?” what in the world was he doing here and at this hour? She shouldn’t even be here right now.

“It’s very interesting…” he started as he slowly took steps closer to where she stood.The air between them charged. “How since the day I first walked into this office, I’ve caught myself several times thinking about bending you over this desk.”

His eyes went to the mahogany surface and he dragged his hand over the sleek top until he was mere inches from her. He smelled like men’s cologne with a hint of rum, but he was by no means drunk. Of that much she was sure. He was fully alert. She stood still, willing herself to stay calm but her heart beat faster and faster the closer he got. 

“How every time I see you, I can’t help but want to do filthy things to and with you.” His face was in line with hers. She tried not to hitch her breath but it caught. He knew the effect he had on her no matter how hard she tried to mask it. Heat began to pull between her thighs as he looked her up and down like a lion stalking its prey. His tongue danced across his lip before a wicked smile came over his face. Every nerve in her body was tingling with alert. “How was your date, love? Satisfying?” 

She gulped. Looking straight forward right through him. Because she knew what would happen if she looked at his eyes. She knew her resolve was quickly falling to pieces around her. He was infuriating in that way. 

“Did he whisk you off your feet?” He was circling her again as he spoke. Biding his movements carefully to not touch her, but close enough that she felt his heat. His breath. The slow build. The chills that went down her spine keeping her aware of his every move. 

“Was he the perfect gentleman all evening?” he continued. “Couldn’t have gone too well, you’re back here… well before midnight. With me.” 

“I didn’t ask you to come here, Killian.” She was surprised by the strength in her own voice. She hadn’t completely caved to his actions… yet. 

“Ah, yes of course not.” His hand came up to his chin and rubbed, a light chuckle escaping from the back of his throat. “Because really… there seems to be no connection here at all, does there? Between you and I?” He said in a sarcastic tone, arm gesturing between the two, looking right at her. 

“No. There’s nothing..” this time her voice was not so confident in her words. His proximity and the building desire within her acting against every facade she was trying to put up. “There is no you and I.”

“Emma, love, do you ever think of me? Ravishing you until you can no longer stand?” Killian’s gorgeous blue eyes were still on her though he wasn’t even touching her, she still dripped with an aching need for him to touch her. She hung on to every word, because she could tell he absolutely meant all of it. “I won’t push you darling. I would never take a woman who isn’t willing.” 

His lips centimeters from her ear, his silky accent wrapped around her name, she couldn’t help but close her eyes and give into the feeling of utter pleasure enveloping her with him this close. It was a game. It had to be. Their complicated dynamic building to this for weeks. But she knew that wasn’t entirely true. Something was here. Something between them that made their interactions electric. Her skin buzzing with the need to touch him, to be touched, to be dominated. 

“Yes,” she breathed, a moan coating the word as she took in the intimate scent of him that only came with him being so near to her. 

He was behind her now, continuing to slowly patrol a circle around where she stood, seemingly drawing an imaginary line around them. A line that her building ache for his touch would not let her step out of. The man was intoxicating. His fingers trailed lightly up her leg, toying with the hemline of her skirt, moving up to the lace top of her thigh high stockings she had worn. In hopes that her date would have gone better. He played with them, and with each movement she felt her body gravitate closer into him. A low, feral growl came from the back of his throat as her ass rubbed against the arousal protruding through his jeans. Emma was certain she had never heard anything more erotic in her entire life. 

“How is it, love, that someone as… breathtaking as you has not found herself a companion.” He continued, his breath hot on her neck. His hands making their way across her sides, up and down. Slowly. Temptingly. “Or at the very least someone to relieve you of some of the... tension built up in this body of yours.”

“Please.” Emma spoke, trying to be tough, “you couldn’t handle it.”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,” he popped the t with his teeth. He was challenging her. She could feel herself internally trying to build back up her walls but the bricks turned to sand and slid grain by grain through her fingers. And without even so much as another second ticking by she spun and lunged for Killian, grabbing the lapels of his jacket. And pulling him towards her. 

Their lips met in an instant, sending waves of pleasure from Emma’s mouth all the way down to her toes. Her body melted against his searching for the friction she longed for, feeling the outline of his hardened length through his pants. Yes, he wanted her too. His strong hands made their way around her before reaching down to grab her ass. His lips never leaving hers. She jolted at the touch, it had been so long since Emma had last been with a man. But the electricity between the two of them, the raw sexual tension built up all this time was taking over. She wanted his hands there. She wanted his hands everywhere and they were. Slowly he roved over every inch of her upper body. Shoulders. Breasts. Stomach. And then grabbing her ass again, giving a playful squeeze, lifting her onto the desk. Legs parted to allow his presence between them. 

She sucked on his lower lip, careful not to bite this time, and rolling her tongue over it before entering his mouth. A whimper escapes as his tongue meets hers and they collide in slow, torturous movements. No part of her mouth unexplored by him. His hands still on her waist he pulls her closer, her legs instinctively wrap around him, heels digging into his back. His hand drifts down to the top of her thighs, he roughly pushed her skirt up around her waist and felt her delicate bundle of nerves beneath her black lace thong that was leaving very little to the imagination. 

“Emma.. My darling… so wet for me.” He moaned between kisses, feeling for the first time exactly what kind of effect he did have on her. “What do you want, love? Tell me.”

“You… I want you…” A low keening sound came from the depths of her throat as he pushed aside her thong and parted her slick folds with his fingers before adding one. Sending a gasp through the air, her mouth searching for something to cling on to. It finds his neck, open and waiting as she sucks on the exposed column of his throat. From the way he growls she can tell he more than likes it. But as he slips a second finger inside her, and she continues to ride it he wraps her long blonde hair around his free hand and pulls her lips away from his neck. 

“Killian what are yo-” he cuts her off. Placing a finger in front of her lips. 

“Shh..” a devilish glint in his eyes. “I want to watch you come for me, darling.” 

Before she can argue, a third finger enters her. He hooks them, searching for the spot that will be her undoing. She rides his hand, grasping his shoulders for support. He fucks her roughly with his fingers, stroking the sensitive spot inside. He knew when he found it. 

“Killian…” she panted, her release building and building. Legs tightening, she grinds into his hand. “Please…” 

His blue eyes stared into hers as she came closer and closer to her climax. He felt her legs around him, her hot, wet, pussy walls tighten and milk his fingers. She shook, almost uncontrollably, it was the most gorgeous sight he had ever seen. The way her mouth hung open with the evidence of his name on her lips. Her breasts, strapped into that damned bra. Just aching to be freed. He reached his hand up and massaged her nipples until they were erect through the lace all the while guiding her through her orgasm. 

Emma closed her eyes, allowing the waves of pleasure to shoot through her. She saw stars, her arms still holding onto him. The intense rush coursing through her veins had lit her insides on fire as she rode out the last bursts of reaching her peak. His arms held her secure, making sure she was alright. Before beginning again. And giving her yet another intense, euphoric moment of release. She wasn’t expecting it. She cried out his name over and over in the throes of his pleasure, entirely at his mercy. She panted, pulling herself together before she allowed herself to look up at him. He had indeed watched her come. Every bit of it. You could see it all over his face. That gorgeous, complicated, handsome face. It was entirely possible she had never had one that good and it had only been from his fingers… what would it be like to actually have him inside of her. Emma’s glance shifted down to the obvious member beneath his trousers. 

She looked back up at him, her tongue roving over her lips. She wanted more. So much more. But when she reached down to grab the aroused length he took a step back. Her legs falling from their grip, she ached at the distance. Wanted nothing more than to have him splay her out over the desk and fuck her until she was sore. 

“W-what are you doing?” she panted. 

“Make no mistake, Emma. I want you.” He was close to her again but not in the same way. “And after this you will have a hard time convincing me against you feeling the same way.” 

She looked up into his eyes. The color of the sea again, the darkness that had been there as she rode his fingers now fading as the heat of the moment settled around them. 

“But when I have you, it won’t be on the same night you sought the company of another man… no, love. When I have you it won’t be on those terms.” 

“You’re awfully sure of yourself… that time may never come after this,” she retorted but she could tell it fell flat. And the wicked grin on his face told her he knew she was bluffing. After her display there was no denying what she felt for him. 

“Remember this the next time you decide there is any man suitable enough to have you in their bed, darling.” The confidence in his voice was startling. And then he did something that truly made her jaw drop. He lifted his hand to his mouth and one by one torturously sucked the juices from his fingers that had just been inside of her not moments ago. A moan escaped his mouth as he sucked the last one. Reaching his hand to touch her cheek, the barest touch leaving her wanting. Wet. Aroused. Again. 

It took every ounce of restraint she had not to grab his arm, drag him back to her house. Have him in her bed, drawing the same cries of pleasure from her as he ravished her. But she didn’t. She just watched him walk away, the most filthy look of victory on his face. 

“Good night, darling,” he said darkly, tongue licking his lips. As he left her sitting there, on her desk, skirt hiked up around her waist. Aching for him to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, let me know what you think :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to OUAT. 
> 
> Rating: M

Killian’s POV 

“Are you going to tell me where that mark on your neck came from?” Liam asked Killian as they sat on a park bench. It was early Saturday morning. Needing to get out of his hotel, Killian had called his brother and asked to meet up. He had leashed up his dog and Liam had brought Harper along, the two were now running around an otherwise empty playground. If there was one part of the reopening of this case he was grateful for, it was the reentrance of family back into his life. 

“It’s nothing, Liam.” Killian tugged the collar of his jacket up around his neck, covering the now purple and red bruising, in a pitiful attempt to hide the damned thing. The cool mist of the morning settled over the park. It had rained the night before but the warming of the weather that came with spring time had brought on a layer of fog. 

“Is it fair to assume that the one who left the bite mark on your lip last week is the same person who gave you the bite mark on your neck?” 

Killian looked over at his brother, raising an eyebrow at him, not willing to dive into this subject this early. And especially when the entire act was so fresh in his mind. 

“It appears as though a certain deputy sheriff is trying to eat you alive, Killian.” Liam’s face was significantly more amused. He could truly be an ass sometimes. “Perhaps you should try asking her out on a date, little brother.” 

“I’m not sure either of us is there yet.” And he wasn’t. The night before… in the station with Emma, had been impulsive and reckless. In the light of morning his actions were much more clear to him. If he was being perfectly honest he was embarrassed above anything else. 

“You know the first night I met Laura she gave me a black eye?” 

Killian continued to look forward, trying his best to ignore his brother’s insinuations that he and Laura were in any way similar to the nature of his relationship with Emma. Because there wasn’t one. He instead focused on the sight of his niece chasing his dog around clumsily with a stick. The dog looking thrilled to be up and about with a friend to play with. 

“We were at a bar and some guy wouldn’t leave her alone…” Liam continued. “I went over to help, but she clearly didn’t need any. She went to punch the asshole in the face but ended up hitting me instead.” 

“Sounds to me like she still managed to hit one asshole that night.” 

“You’re a real piece of work, you know?” 

“Believe me. I’m aware.” And he was. He knew the kind of guy he had grown to be. 

Moments of quiet passed as the two sat on the bench listening to the soft giggle of Harper running about with the dog. 

“Do you ever think about giving her a little brother or sister?” Killian ventured. Liam had done enough prying into his personal life for the time being. It was the other brother’s turn to do the questioning. 

“We had actually talked about it right before…” Liam paused, seeming to get a bit tripped over his words. “Before we had to come back here.”

“Aye, but now everything’s a mess.” 

“That it is.” 

“She’s probably rather lonely though, Liam. She’s around adults all of the time.” 

“Laura’s been bringing it up again lately. I think she really wants another baby. No matter the circumstances.” Liam looked torn as he spoke. The man who was usually so light and smiley was so obviously deeply troubled by it all. 

“And what do you want?”

“I would just like to get back to my house. My job. My life.” Liam leaned forward, elbows on knees. “I’m not bringing another kid into this mess.” 

Suddenly Killian understood. He was grasping the motive behind Liam’s apprehension. “You aren’t them, Liam.” 

The elder brother said nothing but just stared. Stared off into the playground where his little girl ran freely. A far more simplistic childhood moment than he or Liam had ever had. Their lives having been complicated by their parents from the time they were small. 

“You’re nothing like mom and dad. You won’t make the same mistakes they made with us.” 

“There’s got to be-”

“It’s not up for debate.” It absolutely was not. Killian knew Liam to be a far better father than they had ever had. To even put Brennan and Liam in the same category of fathers would be an insult. Killian reached out and put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. And slowly Liam began to sit back up. 

“Uncle Killy!” Harper, in her bright yellow rain boots and pink flowered jacket, was running toward where they sat on the bench. Piercing the silence with her high pitched voice. The dog in tow. He would be lying if he said it didn’t warm his heart. 

“What is it, little one?” he leaned so he was at her level. Her face a look of pure concern at whatever was on her mind. 

“Princess ate a bug.” 

The worries and troubles of a toddler. He looked over at his dog, who had clearly recovered from the bug incident rather quickly and was rolling on her back in a patch of grass. No doubt coating herself in mud and twigs for Killian to wash out later. He stifled a laugh. 

“Thank you for letting me know. But I do not think there’s any reason to be worried, lass. She’s a very tough dog.” Killian could feel his brother next to him also trying to choke down a laugh of his own. The little girl was the only one charming enough to bring Killian’s voice down to the soft level it was at when he talked to her. It was like an entirely different shade came out of him in her presence. 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you put Princess’s leash on and we’ll head back to the house for breakfast. Okay?” Liam spoke. The sky looking as though it may open up again soon for a dousing of rain. 

 

Back in his hotel room, Killian glanced over paperwork he was behind on. He wanted to use the dull Saturday morning to get some work accomplished. Working from the states was doable but it required almost all of his spare time. When he wasn’t chasing around a certain blonde, he supposed. And usually he was able to accomplish a decent amount of work but his mind was elsewhere. Sipping his coffee from the comforts of the couch as the rainstorm roared outside the windows. He pictured legs wrapped around him. He pictured red lips smudged from his own. Blonde hair flowing wildly down her back. He pictured the look of pure pleasure on Emma Nolan’s face as she came undone before him. At his mercy. The sound of his name escaping her as if it was the filthiest word in the dictionary. 

She was a vision. In any capacity she was, but especially in the throes of passion. He wanted more. He wanted to be able to fully give her what she was seeking. What they both seemed to be seeking. To plunge deep inside of her and rhythmically grind to the feel of one another’s instinctual movements. She had wanted it too, the way she reached for him when he was finished with her. The slightest moan that came from her throat. Bloody hell he was losing his mind even just thinking about it. 

He stood from the living room couch, coffee mug in hand, and walked over to the french doors. Killian watched as the rain fell drop by drop onto the concrete, soaking the entire patio and all of its contents. The night she had come to him, the night of the kiss, he had been so angry and so upset. But the moment he looked at her standing before him. Taking in the weight of the fact that she had been the one to come to him. He felt the anger and resentment that came with being in such a difficult and personal situation fall away. All that he could think about was the green-eyed siren before him. 

Killian sighed, looking out over the trees and to the far off city skyline. The view from the top was unparalleled. He took a measured sip of the coffee. He had added just a sprinkle of cinnamon to the mixture but no one else had to know that. He thought back to the night before. How after seeing Emma dressed for her date at the police station he had felt overcome with something. Feelings? It was not anything he was used to. The last woman he had felt anything more than a one night stand with was Grace. A woman so complicated he still felt he didn’t entirely know her even after they dated for several years. 

He drove around that night. Needing a way to busy his overactive imagination. The thought of Emma being on a date was something he had no right to an opinion on, but he felt one brewing nevertheless. 

It was late when he ended up back in Storybrooke. He had grabbed a meal and a drink at Granny’s before deciding it was time for him to retreat to his dwellings. Their interpretation of fried food beginning to appeal to him the longer he was in town. As the weight of the day had settled into his stomach he drove in the direction of his hotel. But when he passed the police station the unmistakable sight of the bright yellow bug drew him in. What was she still doing there? Was something wrong? Would she even want him to drop in? 

He threw all caution aside and chose to check in. Purely on the basis of ensuring she was all right. At least that was what he told himself. But then once he saw her everything became more clear. She stood at her desk, dressed impeccably and looking like an absolute goddess. But there was something in her expression that gave way to disappointment. Perhaps her date had not gone as planned. The part of him that had any sort of impulse control was ignored as he made his little speech, wanting to see if he could get a rise out of her. 

And he clearly did. Emma’s responsiveness to his words completely fueling his impromptu monologue. He wanted her. So bloody badly. The way she curled into his touch. Rolled her hips right into his ministrations. Just how wet she had been for him. It was all so much to process. And then when it came time to claim her, to enter her, to make her cry out his name in euphoria as she rode his cock, he wouldn’t. 

_“Remember this the next time you decide there is any man suitable enough to have you in their bed, darling.”_

What had come over him. Next time? He hadn’t pictured multiple dalliances with a woman in so long. And here he was, all this time later, after swearing he was committed to life as a bachelor. With the way he lived his life, the intense demands of his work life. It was simpler to be alone. But Emma. She made him want… more. Selfishly. Wanting to yield to her electric touch. As if on cue his phone beeped from the other side of the room. Probably Liam, teasing him again about the damned hickey on his neck. Much to his surprise it was not in fact Liam, or anyone else he would have been expecting. 

_Emma: Are you free to meet later?_

Killian gulped. The thought of seeing her again slowly drawing all of the blood down south. 

_Killian: Sure what time?_

_Emma: I could come over around 9 if that’s okay?_

Coming here? Bloody hell she was coming back to his hotel. He had suspected drinks or something somewhere public where there were people who would keep them in line. 

_Killian: Perfect. I’ll let the front desk know you’ll be here._

A smile had crept onto his face during the course of the conversation. He wiped it off immediately. Any decision regarding the next steps of what they may do together was just as much hers as it was his. They were adults, in a very…. Unique situation. He knew she put her job first always. If she even had the slightest feeling he could prevent her from doing that job, the possibility of anything between them would be over before it had even begun. 

 

That night he busied himself as much as he could around the hotel room. Tidying up this room and that. Switching out the gray satin sheets on the bed. Dimming most of lights. Making sure his dog was tended to properly so she wouldn’t get fussy when Emma came over. Even going so far as to have room service send up some food for the room in case either of them was hungry. He thought of ordering something… romantic. Like champagne or chocolate covered strawberries but thought better of it. Emma hadn’t exactly given specifics to their meeting. There was a very real possibility she was coming here to tell him to fuck off after his behavior the night before. 

He changed his outfit roughly four times. Not certain what the night would bring, he settled on jeans and a dark blue button up. He left a few of the top buttons undone revealing just a bit of the hair on his chest. Killian had caught Emma staring at it from time to time, and it wasn’t an accident that if he was around her usually a peek of it was visible. He made sure to roll down the sleeves all the way though. The tattoo on his arm an emblem of the past he didn’t wish to display for someone who he was having such interesting feelings for. The night Emma had noticed the tattoo of Grace’s name she had fearlessly asked him about it. Though that didn’t mean she needed a constant reminder of the woman’s name literally emblazoned on his skin. Grace. The dark haired beauty that had waltzed into his life and subsequently wrecked it all the same. Emma wasn’t her, he reminded himself. And that’s a good thing. 

The ding of the elevator signaled she had arrived. Unlike last time she was here, he was able to walk to the foyer and greet her. She stepped over the threshold and into the space a bit nervously. He wanted to reach out and place a kiss on her hand. But she looked rather uneasy so he held back. Assuming he was right. That she most likely wanted nothing more to do with him outside of the case. It didn’t stop him from admiring how beautiful she looked. In her usual jeans, leather jacket, and boots. She looked stunning in anything. But he caught himself wondering if underneath she had on a hint on the black lace she had donned the night before. 

“Hi,” she said, green eyes looking right into his. He became a little nervous. Feeling like he was a young lad again. When he didn’t know how to act around women. 

“Hello, love.” He offered her a slight smile. She returned it, but it was forced. “Can I offer you a drink?”

“Uh yeah, a drink would be good.” She followed him into the great room, to the corner where the bar was. The air was thick in the space between them. The tension could be cut with a knife. Killian wanted nothing more than to eliminate the uncomfortable energy and transfer it to activities far more… enjoyable. But the next move was hers. He had more than made himself clear the night before. 

“And what is it you’ll be having?” 

“A rum and coke’s fine.” She stood by the windows overlooking the patio. Like if she got close to him he would do the same he had the night before. He shuddered at the thought of her being this uncomfortable. She glanced around the room, and he wondered if she noticed he had cleaned. But her eyes settled on the coffee table where an array of room service food sat out. “You got snacks?” She seemed amused enough, a smile creeping onto her face that was genuine this time.

“I must admit, Miss Nolan, your motives for coming over here were not very clear I simply chose to be prepared for anything.” He looked at her now from across the stainless steel bar he stood behind, mixing his own cocktail. Her eyes did not break from his, no doubt trying to measure the depth of his words as he usually caught her doing. 

“Well I thought it would be… beneficial to discuss what happened last night.” She sipped her drink. Averting her eyes. Shoulders tense. “Before we have to sit in a meeting across from each other on Monday.” 

“And what exactly is it you’d like to discuss, love?” He stirred the contents of the small tumbler with a skinny black straw as it sat on the glass top of the bar. Condensation collecting on its sides as he waited for her response. 

“We should go outside. I need some fresh air,” was her response. Before he could say anything more she was opening the french doors and halfway across the patio. He followed, because what else would he do? 

The night was comfortably cool from the day’s rain. The only light nearby being from the moon above. The penthouse patio was far above any nearby building so it offered a level of privacy. It reminded him of his own balcony at home in London. Except his contained a hot tub and a modern glass fireplace. Whereas this one was simpler and more classic in its design. The surfaces had all but dried now from the earlier storm. He moved so he was near the balcony, resting his arms on the wrought iron banister. She stood next to him. Her elbows leaned on the railing. 

“What happened was… it can’t ever happen again…” she spoke. Not looking at him. 

He knew it. He knew she had come here solely to reject him. To put up walls against whatever draw existed between them. Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair and began to pace the patio. Trying to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. 

“As you wish, darling.” 

“Killian…” Her voice was strained as she said his name. He had never loved his name so much as when it came from her mouth. “It can’t ever happen again because… that’s where I work. I sit at that desk every day.”

He was across the patio now. Arms folded, watching her. Gauging the next move. She shed her red leather jacket and laid it across one of the lounge chairs then slowly took steps closer to him. His eyebrow went up at the way she walked. It wasn’t the walk of someone who was leaving. Not the walk of someone who was fleeing this connection. 

“There are cameras everywhere at the station.” She was a few steps from him now. The excitement building in his chest and his cock the closer she was. “When we do this, I don’t want to get caught.” 

It took all of his strength for his jaw not to drop at her choice of words. When we do this, not if we do this. There was a distinction. And one that someone as intelligent as Emma Nolan would not let slip. The fire in him was only burning hotter as she closed the distance between them and began running her hands up the sides of his torso. 

“Make no mistake, Killian. I want you,” she started, imitating his bold statements from the night before. A naughty look in her eyes as her hands settled on his shoulders. “And after yesterday I’m having a hard time convincing myself otherwise.” 

He didn’t realize it but she had slowly backed him up against the railing of the balcony. The cool metal against his hands as a prop to stay standing. He allowed himself to stare into her eyes, the striking green orbs that had captivated him so. This intelligent, independent, gorgeous woman wanted him too. And not only was it evident in her actions, but her words as well. 

“I have rules, though.” Her hands slowly began to wander from his shoulders, down to the opening of his shirt where a button had been undone to reveal a part of his chest. The simple skin on skin contact sending a shiver through him. How was it possible that such a simple touch of hers set him so ablaze with the need to fuck her? 

“Of course you do.” His tone was mocking as he spoke but he would follow any command she gave him. Especially as one of her hands made their way to his cheek, stroking it lightly. Before leaning in to place the most slow, torturous kiss on his lips. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. He could feel every inch of her soft silk blouse, the toned body that lay beneath it. Her tongue danced across the entrance to his mouth before breaking inside. A moan escaped him. She was so bloody good with her mouth. In more ways than one, he assumed. 

His lips left hers to trail slow, open mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. “I don’t do sleepovers,” she said breathlessly. 

“Why would we?” He let out a low chuckle between kisses as he agreed but internally wondered what her gold tresses would look like fanned over his pillow in the morning. He continued to kiss, moving his mouth slowly to her earlobe and nibbled. Eliciting a deep hum from the woman in his arms. 

“This can’t ever get out at work. In the office. During the investigation, we do not give any indication of what’s going on between us.” 

He lifted his mouth from her skin quickly enough to mumble, “Certainly wouldn’t want to give anyone any ideas, love.” 

“We won’t go on any dates. No romantic dinners or picnics in the park.” He felt her head roll back, giving him better access to her neck and chest as he worked his mouth down to the top of her shirt, yearning to free the breasts that lay beneath the fabric and suck her nipples until they were hard. 

“Why have dinner when we can skip straight to dessert?” he groaned breathily. Imagining the sight of her, doused in whipped cream for him to carefully lick off. 

“You can see other people if you like…” she trailed off, giving into the touch of his lips. Another laugh escaped him at the thought. The mere idea of seeking out another woman so amusing to him it deserved the laugh. 

“Nice try, darling.” 

She pulled away from him. Though his arms were still around her he felt her grip move down. Slowly to the waistband of his jeans. Hooking her fingers into the belt loops to pull him closer. Emma’s face wore a smirk of her own and raised an eyebrow at him as his hardened length pressed up against her leg. 

“Tell me again what it is you want, Killian.” She reached to the front of his jeans and began to unbutton. The closeness to his cock made him audibly gasp. She reached her hand inside of his briefs and grabbed hold of the throbbing member. All of the blood had rushed to that exact spot. 

He tried to formulate a clever response, something dripping with innuendo that would set her over the edge but all that came out was the truth, “I want you, Emma.” His hand reached up and tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. God she was beautiful. 

Her hands stroked his cock as she looked down at it with hooded eyes, freeing it from the confines of his pants. Killian was already hard even from the limited touching they had done so far. 

“Fuck… you’re so big,” her voice sounding wrecked as she spoke. 

He leaned his head back and let out a groan. Even the slightest movements of her hand made him ache with want. She gave him a teasing look and her tongue moved against her lip, shoving his pants out of the way. Before she slowly knelt down before him. He could barely register what was happening, his mind so flushed with desire. 

Her blonde head now at eye level with his cock, taking her tongue and delicately coating the tip in a mixture of her saliva and the bit of precum that had been released. He moaned again. Desperate for her to continue. One hand returned to the railing behind him for support, the other went to the top of her head, guiding that gorgeous mouth of hers further over him. 

“Christ, Emma.” He cried out as she slowly took the length into her mouth. Maneuvering her hot, wet mouth expertly. She took him deep, feeling as she had the entire member at the base of her throat. She sucked and licked, dragging her tongue along the enlarged vein on his cock. He didn’t know how much longer he would last if she kept this up. “So fucking good.” 

“Mmmm…” she moaned pulling back her head in the slightest. The sound of her enjoying the taste of him was all too much to bear. He needed more. His hips began to pump, thrusting into her mouth as he anticipated the inevitable release. His hands tangled in her hair. He needed to touch her in some way. Any way. As her talented mouth did its work. She took him. All of him, her teeth dragging ever so lightly across his shaft, her throat expanding to allow him entirely inside. He felt his knees shaking ready to give way. 

“Fuck…. Emma… I’m going to…. I don’t want to…” he tried to warn her that he was about to come. Not wanting to do so in her mouth but instead of heeding his warning she grabbed his hips and bobbed her head, continuing to suck and lick him through it. A wave of awe and pleasure surged through his entire body, his shaft trembling as he emptied his seed down her throat. She swallowed all of it. Every last drop. Only opening her eyes seconds later to look back up at him. 

He assumed he looked utterly wrecked. Breathing heavily as the final remnants of orgasm settled in his body. Killian had no idea what to say. She had managed to render him speechless yet again. So he reached down with one hand to where she knelt, easing a finger underneath her chin and pulling her to a standing position again. Now facing one another he could see the evidence of his release on the corners of her lips. Stunning. There was no other word. 

Emma leaned in and placed a kiss to his mouth. He could taste himself on her tongue, on her lips, everywhere. He felt like he could float away he was so light. Their kissing continued, his hand leaving her chin and making its way to her long golden hair. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t even realize the cool metal touch his wrist until he heard the click of handcuffs being secured into place. 

“Emma what the…?” He moved his wrist only to find it secured by a handcuff to the fleur de lis pattern on the balcony railing. An interesting smirk had crossed her face at his realization. She let out a slight laugh at him now being unable to move from the spot. She took steps backward, the click of her boots on the marble the only noise and it was driving him mad. Killian wanted to be close to her again. To have her in his arms. His breathing stilled anticipating her next move. But he honestly had no clue what it would be. 

“You barge into my place of work… in the middle of the night, unannounced…” Emma slowly began unzipping the top of her jeans. “Get me all wound up, and then leave. If you want to play games, Killian, I’ll play. But I don’t like losing.” 

His breath began to quicken again as he watched her fingers slide beneath her jeans, giving the slightest peek at the bright red panties she wore. God. He was hard again. He was entirely certain there had never been another woman who had this kind of effect on him. She tugged her damned boots off one by one before sliding out of her jeans. Which revealed the creamy skin beneath and her toned, long legs. 

“Emma, darling, I just…” he panted. Eyes heavy as he watched her settle onto the chaise lounge several feet across the space but in his perfect line of sight. Now only wearing the button up silk shirt that barely covered her glorious ass. He tugged on his wrist that was chained to the iron. Hoping it would some how unclasp and he could make his way across the patio. Sheath himself inside of her and take her over and over on the very chair she now sat. 

“Tell me, Mr. Jones. Do you like lace?” she asked as she tugged free the buttons on her blouse, slowly revealing that the underwear she wore indeed matched the bra underneath. The fabric fell away from her shoulders and she sat dressed only in the bright red bra and thong. He licked his lips, sweat pooling in little beads on his forehead. 

“Not quite as much as I do right now.” He drank her in. So close but he still couldn’t reach her. She was an infuriating tease, but it made him want her no less. On the contrary he had never desired anyone more. The bold game she was starting unlike anything else he had ever experienced. 

She smirked, settling into the couch, her hand finding its way beneath the red lace. A soft moan escaping her mouth as he watched her fingers work their way inside of her. Pleasuring herself before him. 

Her other hand coming up to fondle her breast, still bound by the bra. Her head flung back, hair fanning over the side of the settee. He wished to run his fingers through her long golden mane, fucking her with his still hardened cock. Taking the time to bring her release over and over until she collapsed from exhaustion. But he was still chained up and all he could do was watch. The strain in his enlarged member almost painful as she gave way to her pleasures. Moaning. Arching her back. Her toned stomach curling up toward the stars in the night sky. 

“Killian…” she pleaded. He could do nothing. He used his free hand to begin stroking his cock. Trying in some way to ease the ache he felt. He groaned, not taking his eyes from her as he watched the wanton goddess on his chair leading herself to completion as his name fell from her lips like a prayer. “It’s… better when… you do it.”

“Emma… love. So beautiful…” He furiously stroked himself to his release. His hand coated with the sticky liquid pouring from his shaft. At the same time Emma was climaxing herself, both of them giving way to their own ministrations in unison. 

When his eyes came to and he had calmed as best he could, he stared over at Emma. She was laying face up on the cushions. Her chest going from a desperate heave to a slow rise and fall. He raked over her sated form. Red lace. She had come prepared. The white light of the moon casting shadows across her gorgeous body. 

“Emma, darling.” He hoped that maybe her games were over. “Come over here, please.” And was surprised when she stood from the couch, walking over to him. Their faces inches apart. 

With his free hand he reached down and grabbed hers, pulling her fingers up to his mouth. Kissing each digit one by one before sucking it clean of her juices. The taste of what it was like inside of her reminding him of the night before when he had done the same. He was sure he could live the rest of his days solely off of the sweet taste of her. 

“I hope you enjoyed the show,” she whispered before giving him a chaste kiss on his lips. Emma pulled away and licked her lips. Humming as she moved to gather her clothes and shoes. A bundle in her arms she took one last look at him. 

“Remember this the next time you decide teasing me is the way to get what you want.” 

“What I want?” He laughed. Trying to remain confident though they both knew tonight she had the upper hand. “Given your actions I think it’s pretty clear what you want, love.” 

With a twinkle in her eye she left the patio. Assumedly walking into the foyer to prepare herself to leave. There was no way she was actually going to leave him like this would she?

“Emma!” he yelled. “Emma! Come unlock these damned cuffs!” He tugged on the handcuff that was still encircling his wrist. Infuriatingly brilliant woman. 

The only response he heard was the ding of the elevator and the sound of the doors closing. She had gone and left him here. Handcuffed to the railing. 

“Bloody hell.” His free hand came up to his head to support it. The sweat from their illicit behavior still there in the afterglow. Which was slowly fading away now that she had abandoned him here. There was no way he could call Liam to help him. He knew he would never hear the end of it. The hotel staff would be just as confused but probably would not say anything. 

The jingling sound of his dog’s collar made its way to the patio door Emma had left open. The gray outline of the strong pitbull clear in the lowlight of the evening. She passed the threshold, trotting along the marble floor to where Killian stood. Princess sat before him, close enough for him to see she had a key on her collar. Of fucking course. 

“Princess. Over here,” he commanded, the authoritative tone holding absolutely no weight with the dog who continued to just stare at him. Flustered, Killian rolled his eyes and took a few deep breaths before changing the octave of his voice. “Princess, come here, peanut,” he called softly, trying to get her within arm’s reach. 

The dog almost seemed amused at the turn of events. Her owner now in a rather compromising position. She walked over to his side and Killian was able to get the key off of her collar to unlock himself. The relief that came with being free from the metal caused a release of breath he did not realize he was holding. He looked down at his dog, who had her head tilted probably wondering the same thing he was. 

What in the world had he gotten himself into? 

 

Emma’s POV

Monday morning came quickly. Too quickly. After the events of Friday and Saturday night Emma needed time on Sunday to sort things out. The way everything had transpired wasn’t unwelcome. In fact, the sexually charged weekend had been just what she needed, just not with Killian Jones of all people. Who she was about thirty minutes from seeing again but now in a very different setting. 

Emma stood several feet from her desk. Not able to look at it the same. Visions of legs wrapped around waist. Hands searching one another’s bodies. A desperate urge being explored. The heat pooled between her legs once again. She shook her head, trying to relieve herself of the flashbacks. 

“Em, you okay?” Neal asked, bringing her back to reality. 

“Yeah… fine.” Emma turned, looking at her ex-boyfriend who seemed mildly concerned at Emma’s behavior. “How are you?”

“I’m all right… something wrong with your desk?” He joked. But the question held an entirely different relevance in Emma’s mind. 

Emma took a quiet inhale of breath and went to sit at her chair. Trying hard not to remember the last time she had been at this desk. The wood surface a strange land of muddled emotions to her now. And then there had been Saturday. Her calculated attempt to get back at him for Friday. The handcuffs being so theatrical she couldn’t believe she had actually gone through with it. But when she left his penthouse she honestly just wanted nothing more than to have Killian Jones fucking her in the filthy ways she knew he could. It was one of the things that drew her to him. He could keep up with her. 

“Morning, coffee?” Neal placed one of the two mugs of the steaming warm liquid he was holding onto her desk. He sat on the edge of the surface and Emma bit back a gasp. The thought of Neal sitting where she had last bringing on feelings of guilt. 

“Thanks.” She took a sip of the coffee. A hum going through her veins waking her up. “What’s up?” 

“I know Henry was supposed to spend tonight with me but um I have a date so he’ll probably be with you. Okay?” 

“Sure, who’s the lucky lady?” The thought of Neal with someone else didn’t affect her in any way anymore. There was a time where a surge of jealousy would have overcome her. But those days were long over and her only concern for who Neal was dating stemmed from her need to know who would be around Henry. 

“Some girl I met out this weekend. It’s nothing serious. How was yours by the way? Last Friday?” 

A beat of silence. Emma stacked some of the files that had been sitting on her desk. Ignoring the fact that most of them were now terribly wrinkled. “Friday was… interesting. I probably won’t see that guy ever again though.” 

“Yikes, that bad?” 

“Being single here is exhausting,” Emma felt a bit of relief. At least she or Neal hadn’t had any serious partners since each other. It made her feel the slightest bit better. “I’ll tell Henry to come to my place after work at your dad’s today.” 

“Thanks, Em.” He leaned forward a bit closer to Emma’s ear, the movement a bit surprising to her. His voice quieted to just above a whisper. “Would you mind checking on my dad while you’re there?”

“Sure, is there something wrong?” 

“Not that I know of but he’s been a little.. Odd lately even for him.” He looked down at his fingers that were twiddling in his lap. “I know you’re good at knowing when people aren’t being honest. So just, use your best judgement okay?” 

“Okay. Of course.” She looked up at him, he seemed genuinely concerned for his father. Mr. Gold was a complicated man. A trait Emma was rather familiar with since having known him all her life. Even before Neal’s mother left he was odd. But Neal was her family and she would do whatever she could to ease his mind. 

“You’re the best.” He stood from the desk, taking his cup of coffee over to where his was. 

Emma fired up her laptop. The arrival of Mrs. Jones’ therapist this week was something she was actively preparing for. As it had been she who had made the discovery of the man, she felt it her responsibility to make headway on it before Dr. Hopper got here. 

But she had been having trouble. Ever since she had discovered his name in the address book she had felt uneasy about the man. The fact that he had switched practices so many times. That Killian had claimed his mother had seen a therapist for a very long time but her patient records only showed about a dozen visits. She began researching the school Dr. Hopper listed as where his degree from, but again had trouble getting a straight answer. When she was about to pick up her phone and start making calls to the university’s alumni office, an announcement broke her focus and she set her phone down. 

“Okay, everyone in the conference room now!” Graham entered the room and shouted. He seemed a bit tense. Emma looked over at Ruby who had ceased typing and looked awfully confused as well. There hadn’t been another weird delivery from the clue leaver this morning had there? 

Emma stood from her desk at the same time as her best friend and together walked to the conference room with all of the other officers. The table was filled with her colleagues who looked just as confused as she. Ruby sat on one side of her and David on the other. 

“This morning, my office in Boston got back to us with the results from the security footage analysis. Some of the cameras at traffic lights have shown an unmarked Ford Taurus in town. The car does not appear to be registered and could very well be stolen. More to come on that later but as of right now some of my agents are on the hunt for the vehicle.”

Emma looked at the projection screen, the blurry image of a dark green car at a traffic light. The face was not visible in the image, whomever it was had on some sort of dark hood. The room was silent. Everyone trying their best to get a good look at things. 

Graham continued, “As for the security footage from the police station they were only able to make some sort of ID on the face from one of the nights. The camera caught the profile of what looks to be a woman leaving an envelope by the door.” 

More silence in the room. There wasn’t much to see in the photo. But the amounts of technology available at the Boston investigation unit were far more advanced than the gaze of the human eye. A woman? Emma wrote down in her little notebook. Knowing that it could potentially be a female, assuming the ID was correct, eliminated so many other theories. 

“As of right now we will be visualizing a female as the person who has been dispensing the clues. But if anyone comes up with other plausible suspects please come forward with the information,” Graham finished up his speech. 

“For the remainder of the week we will continue business as usual. The therapist of Moira Jones will be in this office on Wednesday. Please be advised that more aggressive actions toward office security will be taken. More cameras are being installed in each corner of the building. Especially outside. Also a round the clock security team will be put into place. Led by Robin Locksley of your team, and aided by several of my own agents.” 

Emma tightened at the mention of more security cameras in the office. The thought of how close she and Killian could have been to getting caught. It was a bit dangerous. More than a little reckless. And a small part of her felt excited. But the rational side scolded her, telling her they got away with their illicit behavior once, that was enough. 

“Everyone else you are dismissed back to your duties with the exception of Graham, Emma and myself, we will be in here for a while.” David stood. His eyes going to the front door where Emma followed his gaze. There stood Regina Mills, Liam Jones, and last but certainly not least Killian Jones. Looking gorgeous as ever. Whom she had not seen since she left him handcuffed to a balcony after sucking him off in his hotel. 

His eyes darted over at her. A look of amusement on his face. Perhaps at the fact that just 48 hours before they had been in a very compromising and personal situation. Perhaps it was the fact that the last time he had seen her she wore only red lace lingerie. Or perhaps it was just that there was something between them they couldn’t ignore. That only burned the more they teased one another. 

She stood, following suit with her father to greet the three at the door to the conference room. David’s hand outstretched to shake each one of theirs as they entered the room. Emma was next to the table, her hip leaned against the piece of furniture they were all about to gather around. 

“Killian, Liam, Regina. Good morning. If you’ll follow me we have some updates we would like to discuss with you,” David welcomed them. He was pleasant to each but the way that he shook Killian’s hand irked her. And reminded her exactly why she and Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome needed to be on their best behavior when in the office. No one could know. 

Liam spotted her first, walking over and giving her a polite smile before taking his seat at the table. Regina, her usual demeanor of all business, gave Emma a cool handshake before sitting down next to Liam. And then finally Killian sauntered over to where she stood, the impending interaction making a knot form in her stomach as a smirk was displayed on his face. To her surprise though he politely reached his hand out to give hers a shake. 

“Good morning, Miss Nolan,” he spoke softly, connecting his hand with hers. His demeanor too cool for the effect he was having on her. His dark hair ruffled just slightly, a well tailored outfit, blue eyes doing their usual work of piercing through her veneer. Even the way he managed to shake her hand was sensual in its connotation. When the metal handcuffs slid from beneath his jacket sleeve and into her palm she almost gasped. He leaned in slowly, before anyone noticed. Whispering, his silk voice sending a shiver through her core, “I believe these belong to you, darling.” 

Following a quick wink and a spin on his heel he walked away to sit down in the seat right across from her. Where she would have to stare at him, knowing how much she wanted him, for the next fucking hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the kind words I have received on this story. It truly keeps me going and I know I say that every time but it is true. The comments and kudos brighten my day each time I get a notification of one. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and what's to come next :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the comments and kudos and feedback. I realize I have not responded to everyone's individual comments for a few chapters but I'm going to get back into doing that. The support I have gotten on this story is truly amazing to me and I hope I can continue to bring forth an interesting story for all of you. So once again, thank you so much. Your kind words are never unnoticed by me. And I hope you enjoy what's to come :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. All rights to OUAT.

After an exceptionally… tense hour in the conference room, the Jones’ and their lawyer departed. Emma felt the air return to her body but felt slightly disappointed when Killian left the office. The briefings at work had become a once weekly event. As the boys had made it very clear they wanted to be kept in the light about all things discovered. But as of late, the news had been a bit slow. A slew of calls and emails had come in to the department following the press conference but none of the leads were useful. Most people just wanted to say they had a hand in something that was growing to be pretty big news in the North east. 

Despite that, Emma felt optimistic in the route she was pursuing with Mrs. Jones’ former therapist. At the very least Emma could gain a better picture of what this woman had been like. Oddly enough the closer she felt herself getting to Killian the more she wondered if Moira had been anything like her son. What were her hobbies? Concerns? Her secrets? What drove her to an affair? What made her seek a therapist about it? Killian had said she was in therapy most of his life, surely there was some weight behind that. 

However before Dr. Hopper was to arrive Emma had another task of her own to complete. Neal’s dad. She had go check on him, see if there was anything off about Mr. Gold other than his usual odd behavior. More importantly she had to pick up her son from his part time job at Gold’s. She packed up her bag for the day, leaving when it was still light out. A nice change. 

“Emma, wait up!” A woman’s voice called to her as she was about to leave the front door. “I’ll walk over with you.” 

It was Belle, Neal’s step-mother, arms full with her purse, a mug of tea and a stack of probably fifty files. Emma smiled. She rarely ever saw Belle at work. The woman was quiet by nature and spent most time in the evidence room or buried deep in research. Her role in the team didn’t require that she be sociable but it did involve her being highly interpretive of information, and in that role she was highly skilled. 

“Here, let me help you.” Emma took the stack of files our of her coworker’s arms. A grateful smile appearing on Belle’s face. 

“Thank you, Emma.” 

“No problem. So you’re headed over to the shop now too?” Emma picked, if there was something off about Robert Gold, Belle would know. It was only a matter of whether or not she was willing to disclose it. “Do you ever rest?” 

“He’s been in the shop a lot lately. Usually I don’t see him if I don’t go help out.” 

“Everything alright?” Emma looked over at Belle who was walking side by side with her to cross the street. The day was bright, a nice spring afternoon. The temperature had picked up enough that Emma had her jacket slung over her arm that wasn’t holding the files. Which appeared to be the scanned copies of the ripped up love notes between Moira Jones and her lover. Emma recognized the script immediately. 

“May is a hard time of year for him. Mother’s Day is coming up and well, you know how difficult that holiday is for Neal.” Belle didn’t look Emma in the eye as she said it. “And it’s her birthday.” 

“I see.” For as long as Emma could remember Neal had spent Mother’s Day with she and her family. It wasn’t a topic they usually breached. Neal’s mother. Milah. The few times he had been open enough to talk about her were brief discussions. But she knew he still kept a picture with her in his apartment. He would deny it if ever questioned but it was there. 

“I’ll never understand, but I try to help when I can.” 

The two walked up to the front of the shop, Belle opening the door for Emma whose hands were still full. The door dinged and she saw her son behind the counter, writing some things down in a book. Apparently taking some sort of inventory of the baubles cluttering the counter. 

“Hi mom, Belle,” Henry greeted them warmly before closing up the book of records. Emma scanned the room looking for Neal’s father in hopes that Belle’s explanation for his behavior would be sufficient. But she knew it probably was not. 

“Hey kid, busy day?” As he got closer she could see Henry was sweating just a little bit. Emma toyed with some of the things on the counter. Amongst an old spyglass, a jewelry box and countless silver spoons and forks Emma’s eyes settled on a ring. Simple in cut and shape, the band a faded metal with a small pearl as its focal point. Jewelry rarely ever caught her attention but something had drawn her to the thing. 

“Grandpa had a lot for me to do,” Henry brought her mind back to the shop. Setting the ring down gently as Henry plucked it from the counter and put it into a black velvet box that went behind the shelving, away from view with the other things that had been laid out. 

“Spring cleaning, so to speak,” the sound of Robert Gold’s cane on the wooden floor unmistakable as he entered the room. His voice rough as usual, and the glint of a gold tooth catching the light coming in through the blinds. “Good afternoon, Miss Nolan.” 

“Mr. Gold. Thank you as always for employing my son.” She tried to keep her response friendly but she felt her tone grow irritated the more she looked at him, attempting to figure out exactly what was off about him. 

“Any luck so far on the Jones case?” 

“It’s been slow going lately but we’ll get there.” An odd question for someone who was married to a member of the investigation team as well as the father of a police officer. The excuse for pleasantries not sitting well with Emma. 

“I don’t doubt you will, dearie.” 

Her eyebrow involuntarily went up. The way his words formed he almost sounded like he was mocking her. And judging from the tension in Belle’s body right next to him she felt it too. Emma only hoped Henry was too young to understand the social cues of adults. 

“Yeah, well. Getting closer.” She felt the need to stand her ground with him. Her posture straightening as she looked into his brown eyes. Not so unlike the eyes of his son, but distinctly different in their own way. 

“It seems the whole town is waiting on the edge of their seats for answers… But don’t worry. Things have a way of figuring themselves out in time, Emma.” 

She grabbed Henry’s shoulder pulling him to her side. The mother bear in her coming out. The man had maybe only ever called her Emma a time or two. He was always very formal with her, despite them sharing a bloodline in Henry. She had always assumed it was because she had gotten pregnant at such a young age. That Robert Gold had felt Emma was responsible for Neal’s bad behavior when they were kids. But there was something behind this right now that seemed to be in now way related to any of that. 

“Thanks again,” she said before turning her kid toward the door. The slow movement of Henry next to her indicating he had no doubt picked up on the uncomfortable nature of the exchange. But when they left the shop and began their walk home, he asked her why things had been so weird back there. 

“It’s May. It’s a hard time for him, Mother’s Day…” she looked down at him, feeling herself giving the same excuse Belle had given to her just a few moments prior. It was then that she realized that it was just that. An excuse. And Emma had a gut feeling it didn’t match the real motivation for the man’s odd behavior. “Your dad’s mother left when he was even younger than you, Henry. Imagine what that must be like.” 

He simply nodded. The emotional intelligence of her son once again proving itself as he walked alongside her without pressing the situation further. 

 

Emma had been up half the night preparing the talk to Dr. Hopper. This was huge for her. No one else approached with the same enthusiasm, mostly because there had been so many dead ends at this point that it felt like today might just be another one. But she had found something good, something helpful, that could get her the answers she was seeking. And she felt ready. 

“Em, why don’t you get set up in room 3?” Graham suggested when she was collecting her notes on her desk. “You can talk to him one on one for a while, it’ll probably go better that way.” 

“Really?” To say she was surprised was an understatement. She was nearly floored. Most of the case she had been working very closely with either David or Graham. Taking the reins on her own wasn’t something she had been given tons of opportunity for. 

“It’s your lead, you’ve made the connection, you sought him out, you know which direction you want this to go. Of course.” His face was earnest. The act wasn’t some sort of move to gain her approval, it was just what he thought was best. “Besides. There’s a camera in there, we’ll be watching the whole thing from the surveillance room.” 

“Thank you,” she said before carrying her things to room 3. It was a smaller conference room. More private. A simple table and a few chairs, no wall of windows that showed the rest of the office. She wouldn’t have so much of an audience. In the room it was just she and her questions. 

“Hey, you almost forgot this.” David snuck in the door with the warm mug of coffee she had left on her desk. The third of the day so far. But she wanted the adrenaline when she started asking. 

“What would I do without you?” she joked. Her dad looked like a stereotypical proud father as opposed to the sheriff of a police department. 

“Well, you’re about to find out, I think your guy just showed up.” David poked his head back into the hallway. The door to the room was propped open with his foot. 

“Send him in when he’s ready please.” 

“Of course.” He smiled at her before backing out of the room. The slow hinge of the doorway not allowing it to fully close before Dr. Hopper walked in. Emma overheard the pleasant exchange between the man and her father. Collecting herself, she stacked her pen on top of her notebook and raised from the seat to shake his hand. 

“Good morning, Dr. Hopper, I’m Deputy Sheriff Emma Nolan.” His handshake was firm but hers was stronger. A side effect of spending hours making her dad teach her when she was a kid. She always wanted to be just like him. “Please, have a seat.” 

They assumed their positions across the faux wood table. The steam from her coffee wafting through the stale office air. He had a friendly face. The one she would imagine someone would be comfortable sharing their secrets with. He seemed non-threatening, in his brown suit, green tie, and sensible shoes. His hair a faded red, and his glasses fell to the tip of his nose. 

“So today, you’re here to talk to me about a former client of yours. Moira Jones.” Emma started, readying a fresh sheet of yellow legal paper for her notes. “I thought you may be of some assistance in giving me a clearer picture of her.” 

“I’ll do my best, Miss Nolan. But she was a patient of mine… long ago, so my memory may be a little foggy.” 

“I take it this isn’t easy for you, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Being asked questions as opposed to being the one asking them. Being on the opposite side of interpretation.” She knew the feeling. Emma hated when people tried to figure her out. Maybe that was why she had never sought out a therapist of her own. 

“No, no it’s not something I’m used to.” 

“She was a troubled woman, wasn’t she?” Emma obviously knew Mrs. Jones had demons. But sitting before her was a person who had gotten an intimate glimpse of those demons. 

“She came to me seeking my assistance in 1995.” 

“What were her reasons?” Emma jotted down the year. 

“She told me she was having trouble sleeping, nightmares, and she was going through a break-up.” 

“A divorce?” 

“No… it wasn’t a divorce. There had been someone else in her life causing her distress.” He twiddled his thumbs in his lap. Emma found herself distracted by the movement. 

“Listen, I’m going to level with you before we go any further here.” She set her elbows on the table, leaning forward so the man’s eyes were in line with hers. “I know, that you aren’t a Doctor. You have a masters degree in counseling but not a doctorate. The more cooperative you are with me on this, the less I’m going to persecute you for your fraudulent practice.” 

“What exactly are you suggesting, Miss Nolan?” He too leaned forward, the seemingly meek man now stepping up a bit. 

“Best case scenario, you’re stripped of your practice, I send you to a correctional facility in need of a counselor. A job which you are actually qualified to perform.” She leaned back, biding her answer, making him wait long enough that he realized she wasn’t bluffing. “Worst case you go to jail for fraud and you lose your practice and you lose your ability to counsel.” 

He inaudibly gulped but Emma picked up on it. 

“It’s interesting what a little bit of research can get me.” She smiled. He would comply with her. Of that much she was sure at this point. “Did she ever mention the affair in therapy? Anyone you thought it could have been? How long had it been going on?”

“I never knew who it was she was seeing behind her husband’s back…” Emma looked at the man as he spoke but he appeared to be telling the truth. “But it went on for a while. Years even, before things broke off…

“The day Moira came to me she was shaking, a wreck. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t actually a doctor. I had a small office above the pawn shop in town. I could barely afford the rent of the place, not much need for my services. Most people wanted to see a licensed therapist. But she offered to pay money, a lot of money if I kept quiet. I think she just wanted someone to talk to. She told me of the man she was seeing, how they had met years before she had even been married. Things had ended poorly and they went their separate ways, she married Brennan, they had their children and their money and their legacy. Though she still felt empty. So about five years before her death she had taken back up with this man and the affair began. From what she told me, it was rather volatile but she had an attachment to it that she couldn’t sever. Until one day she did, that was when I met her.” 

Emma had been jotting all of it down, trying to formulate a timeline for all of this. But it made sense, at least with what she had pictured leading to the murder. A crime of passion. Lit and encouraged by the disintegration of an illicit affair. 

“Do you think the man was local?” Emma asked, wanting to know Archibald’s take on it. After all, he had probably been one of the only people to know about the affair when it was actually going on. 

He paused. The silence in the room giving way to the faded voices of her coworkers on the other side of the walls, milling about. “I think he must have been.” 

She wrote that down too. That being a piece of the puzzle giving her license to begin searching the town for hints of who this mystery man could have potentially been. Someone so present in the life of Moira Jones that he had been her lover both before and during her marriage. 

Their conversation continued for a while. He was very cooperative and gave honest answers to everything. In the process Emma learned a bit about the now deceased Mrs. Jones. She was an artist at heart. Often spending time in Mr. Hopper’s office just drawing pictures. Those he had kept copies of and agreed to turn them over to Emma as potential evidence. She had never mentioned that Brennan knew the extent of the affair but the man had thought Mr. Jones knew a thing or two about it. He also said she worried for her children, worried about what they would become someday if she stayed so unhappy. Her heart ached for the woman she didn’t know. The mother inside Emma’s soul unable to fathom the pain of being married to someone you grew to loathe that was also the father of your children. She had been lucky, so lucky with Neal. Who still came over to her house for dinner for fucks sake. He hadn’t been right for her, at all, but he was still a good dad. 

“Did she keep a journal during the time she saw you?” Emma had reasoned that a lot of long term patients may have found it helpful, after much research days before. It would make sense to organize one’s thoughts. In a similar way she was doing now with her own notebook. 

“She did but I never saw it.” Archibald’s eyes were steadfast in his statement, he had never seen it. “To my knowledge it was never found either.” 

“There’s no record of one in the evidence room.” 

“I have a feeling if Mrs. Jones was keeping track of her thoughts, she had them in a place that wasn’t obvious. She was one of those people who no matter how long you know them, you really don’t feel all that certain of who they are.” 

His words ringing true in Emma’s head as she jotted down the last of her notes. She had gotten enough out of him for the day. The information she had now was a good starting point. And if she could only find that damned journal, she had a feeling she would have the answers she was looking for. 

 

The Rabbit Hole was particularly busy for a Wednesday. The usual sleepy spot where you could go and have a quiet drink by yourself was crawling with people. Going had been Ruby’s suggestion. A night off for the two of them. Some time together. Emma had agreed, however reluctantly, to go and have a drink or two. But she had assumed it would be deserted as usual. Instead she walked into what looked to be some sort of Storybrooke High reunion. People Emma hadn’t seen in years swarming the bar. Pool tables littered with the old football team. 

“What’s going on tonight?” Emma asked the man behind the bar as she and Ruby elbowed their way to some seats. 

“High school reunion. Class of ‘92 is this weekend.” He was toweling off a wine glass as she spoke to them. A few others behind the bar helping with the crowd. “Big turn-out this year because of… well you know.” 

“Yeah we get it,” Ruby responded not amused. Attendance was good because of the publicity that came with the case reopening. Just last week the police squad rejected three requests for television interviews. This was certainly not what Emma had in mind. At least she hadn’t been a part of the graduating class of 1992. She could fly under the radar a bit. Most of the faces unfamiliar to her. But there was one that was. A very distinct figure laying claim to a pool table. 

Killian was with his brother, and a few others Emma didn’t know. Some guys she assumed that were in town and had known the Jones’ before. Though neither of them went to the local public high school, maybe the guys were from a nearby area? 

“See someone you like, Em?” Ruby nudged her. Picking up on how distracted her friend had been. Emma was typically better at fencing herself off. Maintaining a poker face. Being unreadable. But none of that applied with Killian. 

“Nope.” Emma shifted in her seat so she wasn’t looking in the direction of the pool tables anymore. 

“He’s looking over at you…” 

“What?” She jumped looking back over in the direction of him to find he was actually very preoccupied in a conversation with his back to them. “That’s not funny.” 

Ruby’s face looked like she was about to burst with laughter. If it had been anyone but her best friend, Emma would have been pissed. But the fun the brunette was having at her expense was better than her being bent out of shape about her ex Hannah still being in town. 

“Oh no, we’re not talking to me about tonight. What has been going on with you? Why is Hannah back?”

“She’s a reporter for The Globe. She’s here covering the case.” 

“Yeah well she better not come at me with her microphone and questions.” Emma couldn’t help but be defensive. She, after all, had been the one to pick up the pieces of her best friend when Hannah and Ruby had broken up. 

“Easy, tiger. I told her I wasn’t interested.” 

“Good.” A little bit of relief came over Emma. She could tell her best friend truly felt done with the toxic portion of that relationship. “She doesn’t deserve you.” 

Ruby just smiled at her, as the bartender delivered their drinks to them. They clinked the glasses together, remaining ultimately anonymous to the throng of people in the bar. They were far too young to know really anyone so instead they talked to each other. Ignoring the subtle presses of slightly drunk people to leave their seats. 

An hour and several more drinks had passed between Emma and Ruby when two cosmos were placed in front of them. Emma’s face cringed at the thought of downing the bright pink drink and had begun looking around to see where it had come from. 

“From the lady at the end.” The bartender motioned for a woman on the opposite side of the horseshoe shaped bar. She had long, dark hair that hung in loose curls. Her bangs tucked back in a subtle braid. She had a bright smile and deep brown eyes. Pretty. And clearly very into Ruby. 

“She looks nice,” Emma urged. But her best friend looked a little nervous. “Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Ruby quickly came back with. The remark hung in the air as Emma followed Ruby’s gaze to where Killian was still standing around playing pool and darts. 

“It’s not the same and you know it.” 

“He’s looked over here every few minutes for the past hour, Em.” Ruby stood from her stool, grabbing the drink the woman at the other end of the bar had sent. “You or him could have had anyone in the bar at this point. But that’s not what either of you want, is it?”

Emma let out a light breath of defeat. Her best friend knowing her all too well in this situation. And every situation. “No it’s not.” 

“It’s not wrong to want him,” Ruby whispered before she began walking through the crowd to the spot on the other side of the bar. Emma thought of her best friend, taking this leap. Going to talk to this new person, distancing herself from the toxic relationships of her past. If Emma wasn’t so stubborn she may have taken the hint. 

Emma sat alone now at the bar. Nursing her drink, sneaking peeks at her best friend across the bar talking to the woman. She caught Ruby smiling and laughing and appearing to be having fun. It was nice to see, and nothing Emma wanted to interrupt. 

A conversation going on right next to her. Between two women Emma recognized from high school, a few years older than her, girls she wasn’t necessarily friends with. 

“He’s over there, the one in the green,” the one with red hair spoke, apparently trying to whisper but doing a terrible job as Emma heard her loud and clear. 

Her attention wandered to where the two women were drawn. To the pool table Killian was still gathered around. He was dressed down. A simple pair of jeans and an olive green t shirt. It was the first time she had seen him so casual. The short sleeves showing off his strong arms as he took a shot with the pool stick. The muscles in his shoulders contracting with the movements. His ass in those jeans. The loose piece of dark hair that fell over his eye as he took aim of the white cue ball. He made his shot, a cheer came from Liam as he patted his brother on the back. He looked so… happy. 

“Still devastatingly handsome as ever…” the other woman, with long dark hair, trailed. No doubt in Emma’s mind who the girl was referring to. As there was only one man in the entire bar with a green shirt on. And only one man who could could be so distinctly described as ‘devastatingly handsome’. 

Emma thought back to their night together. The night at his hotel where she had shown up for payback. The act had backfired though, opening a crevasse of need within her. Thinking about it now she became flushed. There were probably forty guys in this bar but she noticed none of them. Her eyes were fixed on Killian. It was then that he caught her staring. A smirk on his face. His good looks more accurately could be described as irritatingly handsome. She wondered what if would be like if she were over there with him, instead of the group of men. A light evening out, shooting pool, drinking beer, flirting. Her heart fluttered a bit at the thought. 

The private moment was stolen quickly by the waitress bringing him another drink and the voice of the other woman near her. 

“No wedding band.” A pause. “So he’s fair game.” 

A fire boiled inside of her at the words. No. He wasn’t fair game. Snap out of it Emma, there’s too many people here. But she couldn’t. Some sort of level of control had to be displayed by her. She couldn’t just chain him to a balcony every time she wanted him. He would probably never leave. The more she watched him though, the more these two women discussed their attempt to sleep with Killian, the more she wanted him. God did she want him. 

Emma got up from the bar stool, sliding the chair a bit too aggressively. She hit one of the girls next to her who been admiring Killian. And heard a pissed off, “hey!” Come from the girl has her drink spilled hitting the floor. 

Emma smiled at the quiet victory and made her way in the opposite direction of where Killian Jones was settled. Flashing a glance at the women behind her who she now felt a level of disgust for. She found herself alone in the single women’s bathroom, locked the door and pushed her back flush up against it. She could see herself in the mirror, looking positively wired. The heat pooling between her legs as she remembered the look he had given her. 

Before she could wrap her head around what she was doing she undid the button of her jeans and her hand found its way to her aching center. She was absolutely dripping, her folds wet with desire from being even in the same room as this man. The memories of his touch fueling her. 

Her fingers manipulated delicately at first, the friction causing her tension to build on itself. Her eyes closed and head fell back against the bathroom door as she gave way to the pleasure growing inside her. She continued, roughly now, with more need. Her imagination darted to his eyes, his ghost of chest hair, and the sinful way with which he smiled at her. All of it leaving her wrecked as she pictured him doing this very act to her, with his own fingers, tongue, cock... She imagined his long fingers entering her one at a time before it became too unbearable and the only choice was to release. Her orgasm crashed down around her, taking over her entire body, knees weak. It was seconds, minutes? Until she looked at herself in the mirror.

Her hair matted from the back of the bathroom door. Her cheeks flushed from the hormones coursing through her. Her breath was heavy as she brought herself back down to earth. Pull it together, Emma, she thought to herself before straightening her clothes and hair.

When she left the bathroom and returned to the bar it seemed Killian Jones had found some new distraction for himself. A young, leggy brunette had sauntered her way over to where he and his brother were shooting pool. His eyes caught Emma’s before she could look away. The blue immediately became a darker hue just as before. Did he know? No. No. There was no possible way he could have known what she had just done.

But then as his eyes continued to bore into her, his tongue found its way to the outer corner of his lip in the most erotic way. Any cool Emma had regained before leaving the bathroom had dissolved. He gave her a knowing smirk before turning his eyes back to the young woman in question who was now occupying his attention. There was no reason to be mad, she told him he could see other people. He could talk to whomever he wanted...

Quickly Emma returned to the bar to pay for her drinks and get the fuck home.

“Hi, I’m gonna close out my tab now.” She pulled her wallet out ready to charge it to her credit card.

“Someone else already paid your bill, Em.” 

“Who?” Emma asked in disbelief. The bartender motioned for Emma to turn around. The man who had paid her bill was none other than Killian Jones. Who was no longer speaking to the girl who had approached him but leaning against the back wall holding a pool stick. His eyes on her as his hand raised to give her a little wave. 

Of course. Emma reached into her bag for the remaining cash she had in her wallet. Very rarely did she carry it anymore.

“Here’s what I owe you. Please reimburse Mr. Jones for my bill.” Emma didn’t give the bartender a chance to respond before darting toward the front door. She blocked out everything else around her with her mind only focused on getting her back home. Her quick pace kept her warm on the chilly spring night. 

“Emma!” a voice called to her when she was less than a full block away from the bar. She didn’t want to turn around. Her shoulders hunched and tense from the lack of satisfying release she had in the bathroom. She could get herself off all she wanted… she had been doing it for years. But she knew there would be nothing that would truly satisfy her the way the touch of him would. Even just from their limited encounters, the electricity that hummed through her veins was unmistakeable. It happened with no one else. 

“Emma, darling wait!” he called again. This time she stopped. She turned around to find he had run to catch her. His black hair slightly disheveled from the breeze, his facial hair the slightest bit longer tonight. My God. Was there any state in which he wasn’t absolutely delicious looking? “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” she was irritated. Looking so fucking good all the time? Giving her more intimate action than she had seen in years? Having the audacity to pay her bill and chase her out of there like they actually meant something to each other? 

“I was… I was taunting you in there.” 

She crossed her arms. “You don’t owe me any apologies, Killian. I told you I had no issue with you seeing other people.”

“Ah, yes, the rules.” His hand went to his chin, rubbing the overgrown stubble that was there. “The problem with that is I don’t want anyone else. Do you?”

She looked at him. Weighing the consequences of her answers. On one hand she could tell him she was a single woman, who had plenty of desire for other male suitors. On the other hand she could tell him the truth. 

She settled for the truth. “No. I don’t want anyone else.” Keeping her cool she didn’t blink as she said the words. 

“What am I to you, love?” his head dipped a bit to catch her eye. A hint of his devilish smile was there. “What are we?”

“We’re just two people who have a lot built up and need a way to ease it.” She couldn’t help but tease a smile when she looked at him. Because he was smiling as well. 

“Hm.” He looked up now, his tongue darting to the inside corner of his cheek as if he were pondering the theories of the universe. “Is that all?” 

“Yes.” She tried to sound confident, despite knowing full well what she had just done to herself in the women’s restroom of a bar. But he couldn’t know about that, could he? Was it evident all over her face? That she was teeming with pent up sexual frustration that had been building and building the whole night (and honestly since the moment he came back to town). 

“And here I thought you were starting to like me.” 

“I do like you. As a person.” 

“Anything else?” 

“I suppose you’ve grown on me.” 

“Because I like you, Emma.” He was painfully close to her now as he spoke. Her core screaming at her to reach out and just touch his face. But he beat her to it, brushing his fingers over her cheek. He smiled. “I like the way your eyes flutter a bit when I touch you.” The tension between them begging to be resolved. “I like the way my name sounds on your lips when you come.” 

“Killian.... I…” it was barely a whisper, all she could get out. 

“I like the color your face turns when you’re aroused.” 

He could hear her heart beating faster. She was sure of it. The cocky look of victory displayed on his handsome face now. He knew what buttons to push, which was more than most people did. The same way she knew he was just as affected by her. The subtly growing presence of his length beneath his jeans. Now close enough she could feel the slight press of it against her center. She shivered. 

His face grew closer to hers, eye to eye. Blue to green, now only centimeters apart. She thought he was about to kiss her, right then and there. Her eyes began to close a bit with the anticipation of his lips finally meeting hers. But then he didn’t. He took a turn and leaned down his lips close to her ear, so close she could feel the stubble of his chin brushing against her flyaway curls.“Why don’t you follow me for a moment, darling? I can help you with that.” His fingers again brushed her cheek indicating her face was still probably flushed pink. 

Wordlessly she took his hand and followed him to a dark and secluded alley between buildings. A wooden stairwell provided a blocked view from the street so no one would immediately see them. Just intimate enough that they could have privacy, just distant enough that there would be no cuddling after. Though with the way her skin lit up when she touched him, maybe that wouldn’t be the worst thing. 

Emma shoved him up against the brick wall, needing this to happen as soon as possible. If he wanted anyone else he would have had them by now. But he didn’t. He wanted her, and she him. Judging from the growing need in his pants he was still just as pent up as she was. She moved closer to him, now she was in charge. And wanting. Wanting so badly to have the kind of orgasm she knew he could give her. Wanting him to hold her. Wishing they had more privacy, more time. His hands circled her waist and pulled her flush against him. His need very prominent between them. 

“Perhaps someone else needs a little help of their own.” She rolled her hips against his so there was no confusion about what she needed. He let out the barest of groans before looking down at her and meeting her eyes. 

“What do you want, Emma?” She liked that he asked her. Often, what she wanted. 

“I want you.” 

“Say it again.” 

“I want you, Killian Jones.” Adrenaline coursing through her veins. Much like it did over the weekend when they had engaged in such intimate games. A wave of confidence coming over her entire being as she leaned in close to him. “Now take me.” 

That was all he needed, his face twisting into a wild grin before shifting so that Emma was the one with her back against the wall and he the one in the dominant position. She bit her lip. Wanting him to be rough with her. She knew he was capable of it. And he obviously knew what got her wound up. 

She didn’t have much time to catch her breath before he was undoing the clasp of her jeans and tugging them off of her legs quickly. He wasn’t gentle either. With each motion of his hands she groaned with want. It wasn’t slow or delicate. They were in an alley, 500 feet from a bar full of people. They were on borrowed privacy. There wasn’t time for gentle. His hand ripped through her thin lace underwear in one swift movement and it fell to the ground. She didn’t care. Anything to ease the ache she was feeling. The desire that had overcome every nerve in her body. His fingers grazed over her dripping wet folds. 

“Emma…” her name sounded so erotic coming from his mouth. Every single letter coated in his gorgeous English accent. “Love, you’re so wet for me.” 

Of course she was. How could she not be. She looked up at him meeting his eyes. There was that look again. The one he had given her in the the car in the woods. The one that saw right through her walls. Any defense she put up was invisible to him. And in this very moment she didn’t care. 

“Killian… please.” She grinded against his fingers, closing her eyes, hoping to get some relief. And more than just by his hand. Though he was absolutely talented enough with the thing. Her head fell back against the wall. The rest of her clothes suddenly feeling all too tight. Her white tank top allowing her to feel the gritty brick. 

“Have you been like this all evening, darling?” He massaged her center slowly, methodically, building more and more heat. “Aching for me? Dripping with desire?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes falling shut, the wanting too much for her to even hold her head up.

“You are rather naughty aren’t you?” He bit his own lip. Whispering in her ear. “Keeping this from me. Trying to get yourself off in a bathroom, as if that were any sort of substitute. All you had to do was ask, love.” 

“I… couldn’t…” she could barely scrape together the words to respond to him as two of his fingers entered her. Curling into a hook, reminding her of the dream she had. And of the night on her desk where he had taken her over the edge. And every single time she had imagined him doing this since then. 

“Why not, darling? Surely you’re aware of how badly I want you.” 

Her leg hitched around his hip. Trying to bring him closer. Any part of him.

“How often do you pleasure yourself thinking of me, Emma?” His voice like velvet, his motions like silk. His eyes shooting daggers into her very soul. Cutting at her nerves. “I find myself going to bed hard every night, imagining you draped over my bed in that glorious little red number you wore the other night.”

She clawed at his back like a cat, as he moved his fingers inside her in languid motions, massaging her clit. Her folds growing wetter and wetter with arousal the more he played with her. She could feel her release budding, slowly inside her. He certainly knew what he was doing. No one had been able to bring her up this fast. No one. And she wondered if anyone else ever would be able to again. She waited for it. Her arms setting around his shoulders for support. Her knees so weak she would not have been able to support herself any other way. 

“I want you inside of me, Killian,” she groaned. Her hands weaving into his hair, roughly tugging at the dark mane on the back of his head. 

He kissed her roughly, silencing any sounds that were to come from her throat. His exhale becoming her inhale. As he pulled his length from his pants, she felt his tip at her swollen entrance, now thoroughly wet and wanton. His cock slammed inside of her and she bit his lip trying not to scream his name. Remembering they aren’t in an overly private place. His hips pulled away, receding from inside of her before burying himself yet again. Her breathing escapes her for the time being, as she only focuses on how good it feels. How rough, how raw he is with her. Her back is shoved harder against the wall as he angles her slightly to allow himself deeper inside, fully sheathed within her. 

“Fucking hell, Emma, you’re so tight, love,” he moans, never breaking his motions though. Her body so weak now she trembles with pleasure as he continues. Her leg pulling tighter around him. He’s bigger than she’s ever had, she’s sure of that as the feeling of being so utterly full of him gives her sensations all the way down to her fingertips. 

“That’s it, love.” He cooed, looking her in the eyes, his blue orbs hooded with the impending bliss of what was to come. A knowing gaze, seemingly understanding how close she was to coming. One of his hands reached up to stroke her cheek. A delicate movement surrounded by other animalistic actions they had been engaging in. “Bite me if you must, Emma, my darling, but don’t scream.” 

His warning to her in and of itself a turn on. My darling. Mine.

She threw her head forward biting down onto his shoulder to suppress the desire she felt to shout his name. Part of her wanting everyone nearby to know what this man was capable of. The slow build bringing her to her peak before the immense waves of pleasure came over her. He fucked her through, his hips rutting. Over and over it kept coming. She kept coming. She could feel her walls pulsing around his cock, as he followed her over the edge. His release coating her inner walls with his seed. 

As their bodies came down from the high, their breathing steadied, foreheads leaning to touch one another. Emma opened her eyes to find he was looking at her as well. 

Emma felt his cock stiffen again as it was still inside of her. A light gasp escaping her as she looked down to realize he was hard again so soon after. A dark laugh coming from the back of his throat. What had they awakened in one another? 

She pulled her head away from his and looked down at his lips, that had quirked slightly into a taunting grin. Those lips. She thought. They were so appealing. Every part of him was simply so attractive. She must have been looking at him in awe because she could barely say anything before the lips she had been admiring crashed into hers. 

She could taste the hint of alcohol on his tongue, in his mouth as his lips demanded she open her own. She granted him entrance and his jaw unhinged to deepen the kiss. The hot feeling appearing once again in her belly. She wanted more of him. So much more. In fact… all of him. 

Their tongues met in an aggressive dance, fighting for dominance, only coming up for air when absolutely necessary. Neither one of them wanting to break the contact. He pushed her further against the brick wall and she grabbed the lapels of his jacket. Her other leg wrapped around his waist until she was no longer touching the ground. Only being held up by the press of his hips to hers. His arousal still very apparent and inside of her, began to slowly pump in and out. Her left hand grabbed the back of his neck urging him to kiss her harder. The scrape of the brick not even comparable in sensation to what her entire body felt. Her hand moving down to the collar of his shirt. God what she wouldn’t give for him to be naked right now. She toyed with his chest hair. That delicious tuft of dark curly hair. 

“Emma… darling.” Was the only thing that escaped his mouth as it moved from her lips to her neck to the exposed tops of her breasts beneath her shirt. Without missing a beat of his grind within her, his lips latched onto one of her nipples, the other breast occupied by his methodical hand. The hand that began to move down to where they were joined and massaged her clit. Easing her toward yet another intense climax. “You feel divine, love… So fucking incredible.” 

Somewhere along the line he must have remembered where they were because his movements became more desperate and hurried, but by no means any less pleasurable. “Someday I’m going to be able to take my time with you.” He whispered between hot, wet kisses as she continued plowing into her. And a large part of her hoped he meant it. 

She could feel his release building along with hers. He was still kissing her when she pulled his head back looking him in the eyes. 

He went in to try and kiss her again but she pulled away, rolling her hips into his. 

“Ah ah ah.” She mimicked his words from the other night, giving him a smirk. “I want to watch you come.” 

“Bloody minx you are Emma Nolan.” He strained to say the full sentence. Their eyes on one another as she rode him to completion. She watched him in awe, as his handsome face twisted into its pleasure. Satisfied. Realizing that she had been the reason for his euphoria, and he for her.

They were both out of breath. Both had come to their peak. Twice. But neither one of them felt the need to pull away. They remained there for a moment. Her legs wrapped around his waist, still propped up against the brick wall. The only sounds being their heavy breathing as they looked into one another’s eyes. 

“Killian!” the voice of Liam Jones came from the other side of the alley where they had entered from. But he never came into view. Perhaps he had an idea of what his brother had been doing when he left the bar. “The uh… the cab’s here if you would like a ride… but if you wouldn’t that’s fine too.” 

Emma let out a slight laugh at that. Oh yeah. Liam definitely knew what was going on back here. Killian still held her, his hands on her bare ass. He looked at her and gave a small smile before setting her back down. For a second she thought she saw him considering staying in that spot while his brother rode away. He righted himself though. And called to Liam, “I will be out in a minute.” 

“Take your time,” Liam yelled back. 

Killian helped her back into her jeans, like some sort of deviant mixed with a gentleman as he had been the one who had torn them off. She straightened her shirt and looked up at him. God he was handsome. Even in the dim light of the alleyway he had a jaw that could cut glass and a smirk that would make any girl’s panties drop. Fuck. Her underwear. She remembered. Bending over to pick up the ripped lace thong that he had broken in the heat of their moment together. She almost threw them into the nearby dumpster but had a better idea instead. 

Emma reached her hand forward and stuffed them into the pocket of Killian’s jeans, not breaking eye contact as she did. His tongue trailed his lip in amusement and his eyebrow shot up. 

“I meant what I said, love.” He whispered before putting his hands on the brick on either side of her head and backing her against the wall again. She could feel his breath, his lips so close to hers. 

“What exactly are you referring to?” She toyed with the hem of his shirt now that he was so close again. 

“That someday I’ll take my time with you. Slowly bring you your pleasures. Indulge in some of my own.” One of his hands had come from the brick wall to cup her chin. “I don’t quite know what spell you have me under, Emma, but I can’t get enough of you.” 

How did everything he say sound like such poetry? She felt like nothing she could say would compare to the way his words formed to arouse her, such a simple thing having such a strong influence on her soul. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep…” she breathed. “Especially when they’re so appealing.” 

“Never, darling.” 

He smiled and looked at her for just a breath too long, seemingly asking permission. Before he brought her lips to his and in one swift movement opened her mouth to allow his tongue inside. It was quick, no more than two seconds before he was on his way out of the alley but it rebuilt the deep yearning inside her. She was dripping again she could feel it. Especially when, right before he crossed the threshold to the outside street he turned to her, reached into his pocket and brought out her torn panties. Only to bring them to his face and inhale the scent of her, releasing an animalistic moan she could hear. 

“Good night, Killian.” 

“Good night, Emma.” 

 

It took Emma a few moments after he left to collect herself enough for the walk home. Her legs were still a bit shaky from the back to back orgasms she had at Killian’s mercy. She felt her body aching to be near him again, selfishly wanting him to take her over and over. Somewhere private, where he could take his time like he had said. The thought so appealing. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one under a spell. 

As she walked she composed a text to Ruby, telling her she had left the bar and to call if she needed back up in getting out of the conversation with the woman she had been talking to. But in fairness, when Emma had left it appeared her best friend was more than pleased with how her evening with the mystery woman was going. She only hoped that continued for Ruby, and she would gush about it the next day. Emma only wanted the best for her friend in all facets of her life. 

When Emma arrived home the house lights were still on, she left them that way if she were sleeping at the place alone. The porch light buzzing and flickering because it was near to burning out. As she stepped onto the porch, her boots hitting the wood planks she noticed a book had been left on her doormat. The brown leather binding striking her as odd. A lump formed in her throat as she stepped closer to it to find the word ‘Recipes’ engraved on the cover and in the bottom right hand cover were initials. MRJ. 

Moira Rose Jones. 

She stood, looking around, an odd feeling that someone was watching her. Someone probably was. There was no one else this could have been from other than the mysterious person behind the clues they had been receiving. Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Calling her father first, telling him to come over immediately, and then Graham. 

Several minutes later, police cruisers appeared in her driveway. One of them belonging to David who ran up the porch steps to his daughter, barely putting the car in park. 

“Em, are you okay?” he asked hurriedly grabbing her and tugging her into an embrace. Hand on her head. As he always did when she was younger. 

“Yeah, fine. Whoever left it is gone. I wasn’t home all night so it must have happened then.” Goosebumps were on her arms at the thought of this person being so close to her house. Her home. What if Henry had been here? 

“Where’s Henry?”

“Neal’s. I called him to let him know what was going on. Henry’s safe.” 

“Have you touched it?” he asked, inspecting the recipe book that lay on Emma’s doormat. Not a full foot from her front door. 

“No. I realized what it was before I could grab it.” 

David handed her a pair of latex gloves after he pulled his onto his hands. He picked the book up from the ground and began flipping through the pages. A puzzled look on his face. 

“They appear to honestly just be recipes.” 

“Mind if I look?” Emma reached for the thing, taking it carefully in her hands. She turned the book over and began to shake. Perhaps there was a note on the inside that would fall out, but nothing. “Hmm..” She contemplated what to do next when she caught sight of writing on the back of one of the pages. She opened the book from the opposite way. And as she flipped through she realized what it was she had just been given. 

“Look,” she stood closer to David, flipping through the pages that were the backs of recipes. “It’s her journal.” 

Each page of the recipe book was filled on the front with cooking and baking instructions. But the backs of each page contained a journal entry. Dated and detailing her stream of conscious thoughts. A simple hiding place for her secrets that would have gone unnoticed by most. 

“Unbelievable…” David remarked as he flipped through page by page. The private journal of Moira Jones that detailed the last years of her life now resting in their hands. A chill went down Emma’s spine as a breeze kicked up and howled through the trees.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone thank you so much for coming back to read or new people who are just joining now, everyone thank you for the support! Your kindness has been what has moved me along and I am always grateful. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT 
> 
> Words: 8700 
> 
> Rating: F for fluffiness

The events following the discovery of the recipe book/journal seemed to move in a fast motion that Emma could barely keep up with. Her mind too tangled with the fact that whomever had left it, had been at her home. On her porch. On her steps. Waltzed right up to the front door and deposited what was supposed to be an insanely helpful piece of evidence. But what Emma found, as she dove deep into the final years of Moira Jones’ life, was that the answers she was looking for would not come so easily. 

Shortly after David arrived, several others from Graham’s team showed up. The recipe book was taken back to the station for safe keeping and locked away in the evidence room. Graham had told Emma she could stay and read the entries if she wanted but that it might be a good idea to wait on it, since she had been at a bar drinking, it was already late and the evidence of she and Killian’s most recent rendezvous was still still drying on her legs beneath her jeans. Of fucking course. She finally had decent (phenomenal) sex and couldn’t even bask in the glory for an hour before there was something pressing occupying the entirety of her attention. For once Emma agreed with Graham, she had been drinking, it was late and if she was to approach this journal at her best it would have to be entirely sober. 

“Em, why don’t you come stay at our house tonight?” David suggested as they stood on the curb in front of her home. Watching on as a team of people from the Boston department dusted for prints and scoured for any other kind of hints. 

“Yeah, okay,” she agreed. Not really wanting to be alone in her house after what had just happened. The whole experience leaving a bad taste in her mouth. No neighbors to ask if they had seen anything, the house so secluded, someone could have came and went without notice. She crossed her arms over her chest to block off the cool breeze that tore through the air. David, putting his arm around her shoulder, walked her to his car and drove them to her childhood home. Where Mary Margaret was waiting in the kitchen with a warm cup of hot chocolate made just the way Emma liked it. 

Henry called a few moments after Emma got to her parents house. Apparently Neal had filled him in on what had happened. 

“Are you okay, mom?” he asked on the phone, concern in his young voice. 

“Yeah, kid. I’m alright. I wasn’t there when it happened and they were long gone by the time I got back.” The last part she wasn’t 100% confident in but she figured it would help lighten the air a bit. 

“I’m coming to grandpa and grandma’s.” 

“No, Henry, really, everything’s okay. Just stay with your dad tonight. It’s late and you have school. You can stay here tomorrow.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive. Just stay there. I’ll come walk you to school in the morning and pick you up after?” Truthfully she just wanted Henry right next to her at all times but he was 13 now, and that wasn’t really a feasible goal. 

“Okay. Goodnight mom, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight kid, love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Emma didn’t sleep a wink after talking on the phone with Henry. She just wanted to be in her own bed in her own house. Instead she laid staring face up at the ceiling of her childhood bedroom, awaiting rest that never came. 

In the morning when her alarm went off on her phone she immediately silenced it, having been awake the whole time. She just wanted to get her hands on the journal. It was like torture. She shot out of bed, threw on some clothes, and grabbed a pop tart and a coffee before walking to Neal’s to get Henry. They walked to his school in silence, she was honestly just happy to see him and that he had been with his dad the night before. She rustled his hair before hugging him goodbye in front of the school. Promising she would pick him up after. 

Walking up to the office she was one of the first to get there. Her father was brewing a pot of coffee and Graham was dismissing the others for the day who had spent the night examining Emma’s home.

“Morning, Em. Good news for you.” Graham greeted her. 

“What’s up?” she asked, setting her bag down on her desk. Gearing up for a long day on little sleep. 

“Netflix wants to do a documentary on the case.” 

“Get the fuck out of here. No.” She was too tired and too stressed to even entertain the idea of a camera crew being here. 

“I know. It’s ridiculous… but you have to admit a little impressive. This small town generating quite the following that it is.” 

“Yeah. I get it. Amazing.” She rolled her eyes. At least he wasn’t on board with the ridiculous idea. Perhaps one day when Emma is able to give the Jones’ some answers on what happened to their parents, then Netflix could make their little movie. 

“One steaming hot cup of black coffee…” David strolled up and handed the mug to Emma, who had just finished her first cup. Thankful that her father was so in tune with her. 

“Thanks dad. Are we ready to take a look at this thing?” Emma asked, anxious to get her eyes on the journal. 

“Just about. We’ll be in room 3, it’ll be quiet in there. Copies have been made for each of us. The recipe book itself was sent to the lab.” Graham waved a manilla folder, that Emma assumed contained their copies and began to walk toward the door the led to the space they would be in. 

 

Emma, David, and Graham entered the small room where just yesterday she had interviewed Mrs. Jones’ former therapist. So much had happened since then. And quickly. Emma took her copies of the recipe book pages and spread out on one side of the table. With her pens and highlighters and coffee she was ready to go. The more she thought about the delivery of the book she had wondered if it was an inside job. That someone knew the security had been increased at the police station, someone knew where she lived, someone knew how to drop a clue (many) without so much as a scrap of evidence. But those weren’t the kind of things she could go around suggesting. The department was small, and imagine accusing someone that wasn’t guilty, imagine having to see them each day after that. It wasn’t solid enough yet. 

Time went by quickly, as the three read and read until the pages had been scanned thoroughly cover to cover. They took breaks for food or water or whatever they needed but for most of the day they were in there. During one of her breaks, Emma was nursing the symptoms of a headache. She needed medicine and she knew Ruby would have some, so she excused herself to go find her best friend. 

“Hey, oh my god how are you?” Ruby whispered when Emma tugged her aside to a secluded hallway to talk. 

“I’m fine, just a headache, do you have any Advil?” 

“Yeah, in my desk, I’ll grab some for you. I heard about the thing being left at your house that’s wild.” Ruby’s eyes were wide with curiosity. Normally Emma would have called or texted her to fill her in, they told each other most everything. But the entire event had gone down so quickly, Emma hadn’t thought to do it. 

“Well, we were at the bar when it happened and Henry was with Neal so he wasn’t home thank God.” Emma still got angry thinking about if her son had been home. “How was the rest of your night?” 

“Fine, the woman was really nice. Dorothy. The one who bought us the drinks. We have a date this weekend.” 

“That’s amazing!!!” Emma grabbed Ruby’s hands. It was nice to be excited for her. A few seconds ticked past and Ruby’s face went from a smile to a smirk as she looked closely at Emma. Almost reading her. 

“So was he good?” 

“What?!” 

“You know what I mean, don’t you dare play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” 

“We just…” 

“Fucked in an alley?” 

“Ruby.. sh…” Emma grabbed the brunette’s arm. Wary that anyone else around may hear. 

“Liam came up to me a few minutes after you both ran out of the bar.” And then Ruby launched into her recount of how she and the other Jones brother had put the pieces together of what was happening between Emma and Killian. “He says he’s never seen Killian like this…”

“Like what?” 

“So enamored by someone.” 

Emma was a bit taken aback by the choice of words. They were so heavy. But they didn’t feel out of place. 

“Let’s just… we can talk later I have to get back in there. I just needed a little break.” Emma collected herself and followed Ruby who gave her a smile before walking to her desk, grabbing the Advil for her friend. 

“Is it going well in there? Like have you found anything helpful?” Ruby asked as Emma tossed back the pill with a glass of water. 

“Nothing yet. It’s not easy, she doesn’t refer to the guy by name.” 

“Did you really think she would?” Ruby’s eyebrow shot up. In fairness, no. It wouldn’t make sense. Emma should have known. She should have known that a woman like Moira Jones, so careful to mask the evidence of her affair, would not have given name to the man she had fallen in love with outside of her marriage. 

“Wishful thinking I guess.” Emma shrugged before returning to the room to read through more of the material. 

So much time had gone by, and at 3 pm she had to leave. She couldn’t stare anymore at the paper, no more notes could she make in the margins. Nothing of value had presented itself. She would have to let it sink in for the night. She stood from the table, a bit wobbly from sitting so long. David and Graham did the same, no one making any real revelations. 

“I’ll walk with you,” David said as she put on her leather jacket to leave the office. 

“Mom’s idea?” Emma looked at her dad, who’s face gave away his answer before his mouth did. 

“She’s worried, you didn’t sleep last night.” 

“She’s too much.” 

“Give her a break, Em. You’re her only daughter. It’s like if Henry was in your position.” 

And then David’s sound reasoning hit Emma, as it always did. Because the man had a keen sense of always being right. 

They walked to the school to grab Henry, who was happy to see Emma. More happy than their usual reunion. She wrapped her arms around him, though they had just seen each other that morning, and didn’t want to let him go. 

Henry sat with her all night as she combed through her paper copies of the recipe book. Her mind restless the closer to dark it became. They took over her parents’ dining room table with papers, Henry with his schoolwork, Emma with her files. And kept each other company. 

_July 27, 1995_

_Today was better. Brennan and the boys took the boat out because the weather was pleasant. I stayed back, telling them I wasn’t feeling well. The truth of the matter is being on the water isn’t something I enjoy much anymore. I wish I could be there for them, be around my kids but the more I look at them the more they look like Brennan and that frightens me. He frightens me._

The clock in the dining room ticked by as hours passed, Emma reading through page after page. Around 11 pm Henry brought in 2 mugs of tea in hopes that the warm chamomile would urge his mother toward sleep. 

_October 16, 1995_

_I ran away for the night. It was exhilarating. I took some time for myself. I felt like I could finally breathe. We stayed in a place I had never heard of. A place no one would ever find us. My own little fairytale. I can’t believe we’ve found each other again. Some things are just meant to be I suppose._

Emma sipped her tea, even as it grew colder the longer it sat. The one thing the journal had done is set a time frame for the affair. It not truly taking hold of Moira’s conscious thoughts until October of 1995. She wondered if this mysterious partner had simply just returned to town or perhaps they had been there the whole time. What changed? And when did they know each other before?

Henry had turned in for the night, the clock reading 1 am. She thought perhaps she should do the same. 

“Emma, honey, you need to get some rest.” Mary Margaret put her hands on Emma’s shoulders, but the urging did nothing for Emma. She couldn’t peel herself away. 

_January 5, 1996_

_I fear that I might be pregnant. We haven’t been careful lately. I think Brennan may know something. I haven’t touched him in a year. My heart aches because I want to love my husband but he’s a monster. And now that I have tasted the love of another I do not think I could ever got back._

It was 2 am now, and David had joined his daughter at the table. Keeping her company. Alternating between note taking of his own and the daily crossword puzzle. 

“What’s a 4 letter word for undergoing rapid combustion?” he said absentmindedly aloud. 

“Burn.” Emma replied without looking up. 

_April 23, 1996_

_I am made of two incohesive parts. The part of me that wants to see my family succeed and be the people everyone thinks we are. To love being a mother, to grow old with the man I married. Then there is the part the yearns to run. The portion of me that only feels free and accepted when I am without my family, and with the true love of my life._

Emma was alone in the dining room again. The only light being the dimmed chandelier above. She looked around at the light green walls, the banquet filled with photos, the floral curtains, the contents of a home. A place where she grew up loved and her bad finger painting art was always hung on the fridge with pride. 

When Moira Jones referenced her family in her writing there was always a ‘but’, always something that kept her from fully embracing that part of her. The roadblock being her husband, the man she once loved. Emma thought of her own parents, who had demonstrated probably one of the most sickeningly loving and healthy marriages of all time. And she thought of Killian, who had never experienced that. 

The last entry, the last page of the Recipe book was written two weeks before she was murdered. 

_September 2, 1997_

_He breathes new life into me, each time I see him. Every time he steals me away I can’t help but wonder what it would be like if this were all the time. But for now and for a while it’s hidden moments. I love him. I really do. Maybe someday when the boys have moved out and are on their own I can find a way to have my life the way I want. Living this way forever though is a thought I can no longer bear._

At 3 in the morning Emma closed the files and felt herself finally tired enough to sleep. She crawled into the bed in her pink fluffy bedroom of the past. Looking at the stuffed animals that lined the shelves. Her desk that still had a massive desk top computer on it. The cool feeling of the sheets that had come from leaving the windows open. Sleep overtook her body until Friday morning when her mother had to shake her awake after 4 straight hours of semi-pleasant rest. 

Emma walked into the office with purpose, knowing what was in store for today. Her father had let her know at the breakfast table that the Jones’ were coming in to hear about the newest development. She stiffened slightly at the thought. The last time she had been with Killian had been… heated. That seemed to be their pattern these days. See each other, tease, kiss, sweat, swoon, come. It was wild and intriguing but uncharacteristic of Emma, and she suspected that is wasn’t the kind of behavior Killian indulged in regularly. At least she hoped not… 

“So Wednesday night, we’re assuming, around 11 pm a leather bound recipe book was distributed. It belonged to your mother, her initials are engraved on the front cover.” David was at the front of the room clicking through a slideshow of pictures that had been assembled to show Killian, Liam and Regina what had come up. “The book turned out to be the journal Moira Jones used up until two weeks before she died.” 

Graham sat next to Emma, their files of notes on the journal on the table in front of him. He hadn’t made much progress either but he and Emma both agreed the timeline of the thing was relevant to the case. If they could decipher when exactly the affair started, and when they had initially met, the team could narrow down who it was. 

Killian was directly across from Emma, as per usual, a delectable form of torture especially now that they had engaged in such intimate behavior… several times. He wore a navy blue suit that hugged him so well. Focus. He’s not that good looking. Alright, well that was a lie. It felt like though she wore jeans and a long sleeve shirt, he could see her underwear. She averted her eyes, twiddling her thumbs, she had told David to give the presentation today citing exhaustion as her reason against doing it herself. 

“I don’t understand, didn’t you all enforce stronger security here? More cameras? How did this person drop something at the station again without being caught?” Regina spoke up. 

“Because it wasn’t left at the station… it was on Emma’s porch.” The room got quiet. Emma was nervous to look up because she knew who would be staring right at her. She did anyway, and caught the deep blue pools of concern from the man across from her. 

“This was at your house?” Killian’s words coming out before he realized there were other people in the room, who didn’t exactly know how close he and Emma had become. “Are you still staying there? Surely that can’t be safe.” 

Her eyes widened the more he talked, trying to signal to him that he should fucking cool it before everyone picked up on the fact that he was speaking directly to her on a more personal level than was appropriate. She kicked his shin underneath the table and he winced but not enough that anyone caught it. 

“We’ve had a team scour the place for anything but not so much as a tire mark was left behind. So whoever did it is on foot or just local.” Graham stood taking over the slide show. The focus of the room shifting to him as he discussed the installation of security cameras at Emma’s as well as more public street corners. 

But Killian’s attention remained on Emma. His face looking pained as he completely ignored the rest of the meeting as did she. 

 

Emma was alone for the night. Henry was with Neal for the next few days. Until she was sure it would be okay for him to be there again. Two days away from her home was long enough. The coward dropping hints at her doorstep couldn’t keep her away forever. 

Ever since the recipe book had been deposited on her porch, Emma’s life had been a non-stop whirlwind of insanity. She had slept little, eaten even less, and spent most of her time trying to capitalize on the development before it was too late. All the while her home, the haven she had created in which she raised her son, was blocked off with yellow caution tape and swarmed with investigators. 

When they finally gave her to go ahead to return to her house Friday evening after work, she did so without hesitation. No one would chase her out of it. No matter how weird she felt about walking up the steps this time to find that the porch looked normal. All was in place, the only remnants of the other night was a piece of tape left on the railing that had been ripped away. She would deal with it later. Right now all she wanted was to go for a run, take a bubble bath, and climb into her own bed. 

Her mind was restless as she walked through the house. Wondering if the person who had left the note had peaked inside, seen the contents of her life. A shiver went down her spine, and not in a good way. The whole thing was violating. So she went to her room, changed into leggings and a tank top, and put in her headphones as she set out for a run. 

The evening was crisp for May. But she didn’t mind. It kept her cool. The loud music she played in her ears a way to block out her wandering mind as much as it possibly could. She reached for the volume button and turned them up just a bit more as she rounded a bend to where the park was. The trees were lush and green after all of the rain in April. The smell of freshly mowed grass filled her nostrils. She closed her eyes and slowed for a moment. Inhale, exhale, she urged herself. In her experience, there wasn’t anything a few minutes of measured breathing wouldn’t fix. Until today. 

A few people were scattered at the park, walking along the circular path surrounding the pond. Young families, kids, an elderly couple strolling hand in hand. She ran past all of them to take the route through the woods that would lead back to her house. Her legs begged her to slow as she maintained an all out sprint the entire way. The rush of the wind on her face, the steady increase of her breath, the pounding of her heart. Her shoes hit the dirt path one after the other, carrying her off into an abyss for just a moment. The runner’s high. 

It quickly wore off when she stopped in front of her house. The same place she had lived for so long but that appeared so different to her now. She wished Henry was on the porch to greet her, or that her mother and father were there helping with dinner. She wished Ruby was walking out of the door to hand her a glass of Merlot and spend the Friday night talking about nothing. 

She wished that someone was there to wrap her in their arms as she felt herself collapse to her knees on the walkway. Her arms cradling her chest as she tried to calm herself. Her body was so overstimulated. Her mind so active. All she wanted was peace but she was having trouble getting it. Her head hit the concrete and she rested there for a while. Catching herself, breathing, calming herself, untying the knots that had formed within her. 

“This is your fucking house,” she muttered to herself. And it was enough to propel her inside. Enough to make her feel like she could unwind a bit. Enough to allow her a relaxing bubble bath for one. But it was not enough to discourage her from texting back when she got a message from a certain tall, dark Englishman, who had come into her train of thought more than once as she soaked within the bubbles of her bath. 

_Killian: Are you at your house?_

_Emma: Yeah, what’s up?_

_Killian: Mind if I stop by? I have something of a favor to ask._

He had never been here before, she would have to give him the address. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, but she felt like it was. The idea of him coming here. What could he possibly have to ask her? Probably something flirty and obscene, perhaps she should stay in the tub until he arrived. Allow him to take her right where she sat. Emma shuddered. The man had definitely awakened something within her. Eventually she texted him her address and rose from the bathwater to get dressed. As much as she was attracted to him in such a primal way, today was not a day where she was feeling utterly bold or sexual. Their last encounters serving as a precedent for their behavior around each other made her a bit nervous for his arrival. 

Emma took a few moments to dress herself, settling for sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt. Her body still a bit sore from her earlier run. She took her hair down from the high messy bun it had been in and let the blonde curls fall over her shoulders. It was a bit unruly from the steam of the bath but she ran her fingers through making it look semi-presentable. When the doorbell rang she jumped a bit, never having been a jumpy person she attributed it to the goings on of the past few days and padded down the stairs. 

As she rounded the bend from the kitchen to the foyer she could see the outline of her visitor. Rolling her eyes she unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door to find a very tall and devastatingly handsome man on her front porch. And next to him, his loyal steed. 

“Good evening, m’lady,” Killian joked. She took in the site of him on her porch. Dressed down from his earlier appearance. Simple jeans and a flannel, not unlike the day she had first met Princess, his dog. Who was also next to him on her porch, sitting patiently with her eyes on the large brown paper bag in her owner’s hand. “We thought you might like some company.” 

“How do you know I’m alone?” she asked, maybe a bit colder than she would have liked to come off.

“Are you not?” His eyebrow went up. Of course he knew she would be alone, because he was alone. 

“Well, since I am, you can come in I suppose.” 

“How kind of you to offer, Miss Nolan. And here I thought bearing grilled cheese and onion rings would be enough to grant me entrance to your abode.” He lifted the bag and waved it closer to her eye level. She could smell the grease scent coming through and pretended the fluttering in her stomach was from the thought of her favorite meal, not from something else. 

She rolled her eyes at him before swinging the door all the way open so he and his dog could walk through. Here he was, she thought, in her home. He didn’t look all that out of place. The general regality of his demeanor made him fit with the grandeur of the old victorian home’s entryway. 

“Lovely place you have here,” he surveyed the surroundings, probably comparing them to whatever palace he currently resided in in London.

“Well, it isn’t quite the penthouse suite but it suits me just fine,” she teased. “Here let me take that, I’ll get us some plates.” She grabbed the paper bag from his hand and did not miss the shock wave that went through her when their fingertips touched. She let them linger just a bit too long before retracting and making her way to the kitchen.

Emma took two plates from her cabinet and began preparing the meals. He had gotten her favorite food and one for himself as well. The oil from the sandwich coating her fingers as she removed them from their plastic takeout containers. She licked her fingers, savoring the taste, and trying not to think too hard about Killian making such a thoughtful gesture. Also trying to not think about how domestic of a scene this was. 

“So is this the favor you came to ask me? Keep you and your dog occupied on a Friday night?” she walked over to the kitchen table where she set the plates down. Princess had been freed from her leash and was now waiting by the food Emma had placed on the table. 

“Believe it or not, no,” he seated himself at one of the wooden chairs. “It seems I will be going to New York for a few days, and I need someone to watch the dog.” His hand went up to scratch behind his ear as he said it. The nervous quirk. 

She sat down across from him. Taking in the image of him sitting in her kitchen, eating a grilled cheese sandwich.“You need me to dog sit?”

“I thought perhaps you two could keep each other company.” He took a bite of the grilled cheese and swallowed before speaking again. “She’s not much of a ferocious guard dog but she’ll let you know if someone is outside who isn’t supposed to be there.” 

Now she understood. 

“Killian, I don’t need your protection in my own home.” 

“Not mine, love. My dog’s.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his lap, seemingly immovable on the issue. “And I know you don’t need it but I wanted to offer.”

“I’ll watch Princess. But only as a favor to her, not to you.” The earnestness of his offer getting to her. 

“Tell yourself whatever you must, Emma.” Though he had experienced this small victory, Emma knew she wouldn’t mind having the dog around. A quiet kind of company that would bark if anything was a miss. It would be a bit of a comfort at least. 

“Why are you going to New York anyway?” 

“I’m the keynote speaker at a conference at Columbia’s business school.” 

“Wow… Aren’t you fancy?” she mocked. Sometimes when he was laid back like this she forgot just how successful he had been. And continued to be. Even though he was far from his territory and dealing with an immense amount of inner turmoil about his parents’ murder. 

“Hardly.” He finished his sandwich and wiped his hands on a napkin. His eyes had left hers and she missed them. “It’s a standing engagement I have with the university... It’s my father’s alma mater.” 

They had both finished their meals now, and as she searched his face there was a sadness there at the mention of his father. Without thinking too much more about it Emma reached across the table and grabbed his hand. His eyes shot to the place where their skin now touched. A chaste motion but nevertheless, electric. Then his eyes went back to her and she offered a light smile. 

“Would you like a glass of wine?” she asked. His face softened at her suggestion. 

“Sure,” he smiled back at her. 

 

Emma got up from the table and Killian cleared off their plates, loading them into the dishwasher. She told him to take the dog and that she would bring the wine into the living room. As she poured the thick, red Merlot from the bottle she thought of the turn her day had taken. How out of place she had felt in her home just an hour ago. But now she was the slightest bit more at ease. It didn’t stop her from peeking out windows and listening for any out of place noises though. 

When she found Killian he was standing before the fireplace in her living room looking at the pictures on the mantle.

“Is this your boy?” he asked holding up a silver antique frame with Henry’s most recent school picture on display.

“Yeah, that’s Henry.” She set the mugs on the coffee table. “He’s the greatest.”

Killian smiled and looked down at his feet before putting the frame back in its place. “And you have been raising him on your own since you were eighteen?” He continued to look at the trinkets that littered the mantle. Paraphernalia from different estate sales and antique shops. The whole idea of living in Emma’s little pseudo-victorian home was for it to be true to its era.

“Not entirely on my own. Neal and I co-parent a lot. That’s where Henry is tonight… and where he has been a lot since the book was left here.” 

“It’s very impressive… that you’re able to do that. Most aren’t.” Killian took one glass of wine from Emma’s hand and stood facing her. 

“I’ve had a lot of help. I lived with my parents until I graduated high school. Henry and I shared a tiny loft bedroom.” She smiled remembering how hectic that time of her life was. She was just barely a high school senior with a newborn in a town where gossip traveled faster than wind. Trying to squeeze a car seat and a stroller into her little yellow bug. 

“Can’t imagine the town folk were too forgiving?” Killian’s eyebrow shot up as he made the remark. There was something else behind his words though. Perhaps he himself was remembering the way that the town had been so unforgiving to him during such a manic time in his life.

She shook her head, no, and took a sip of the wine. Killian’s reputation about Storybrooke wasn’t great even before the murder of his parents. Emma remembered right after the news broke it took very little time for the town to point fingers at Killian, or his brother. No wonder he left the country.

“Was it lonely here for you? Before you moved I mean.” Immediately after she asked it she worried the question was too personal. But instead of ignoring the question he moved to sit on one of the plush green couches, next to the spot where his dog had made herself right at home. Lounging on her belly as if she had every right to be there. His hand settled on Princess’s back. 

“Storybrooke was always rather lonely for me.” He sipped from his glass, eyes focused on something ahead of him. “I did not keep much company even before my parents’ death.”

This much Emma knew to be true. He had always maintained an air of mystery. She would see Killian here or there in social situations but he never seemed to be participating in anything. She never saw him joining the other older boys for keg stands or going to the Homecoming dances. He always seemed above it all.

“I know what you mean,” she smiled as his eyes met hers again. “When I got pregnant this town became isolating for me.” She opted to sit on the couch, separated from him by the presence of his sleeping dog, similar to the first night she had gone to his place. 

“Imagine if we had kept each other company during those times. The teen mother and town black sheep going to Granny’s for a milkshake. 

She had to let out a slight laugh at the thought. The two of them milling about the small town together stirring up controversy. Neal had been around but he wasn’t the one strapped with a ten pound lump to his belly. Everyone had definitely been easier on him than her. She felt a small pang in her heart almost wishing she had had someone during that time of her life who had felt as alone and talked about as she had. 

When she looked in his eyes she could tell he was thinking the same. The laughing lulled to a comfortable silence between the two. 

“You truly are braver than I for staying here. Building a life instead of running away,” Killian continued. 

“Trust me I could not have done any of this without my par-,” she stopped herself before she finished the word. Of course he left. Why in the world would he have stayed?

“It’s alright, love, it’s been quite a while they’ve been gone.” He paused, probably contemplating whether or not to get into it. “It’s hard because there are no answers. A lot of the times when you lose someone there are these comforting little sayings that can get you along… ‘they’re in a better place now’ or ‘at least they aren’t suffering anymore’ but that doesn’t entirely apply here. I don’t even know who killed them.” 

“She loved you very much, Killian…” Emma didn’t know if he would be angered if she mentioned his mother or her journal but she pressed on anyway. “I read her thoughts, she always thought of you and Liam.” 

“I know you probably think she isn’t a good person for stepping out on my father, Emma, but she really was. She was just… unhappy.” 

“Do you ever worry we won’t find out what happened to them?” Another bold question, Emma chose to blame it on the wine she had been nursing. Giving her the confidence to pry a bit further into his head. 

“No.” He said with confidence. “No I don’t doubt you’ll figure it out.” 

“How can you be so sure?” she wondered. His blind confidence in her abilities had been something he was steadfast in almost the entire time he had been back. 

“I happen to believe the case is in very capable hands,” he looked at her, his eyes honest with admiration. Her heart began beating just a little bit faster. “You aren’t really someone who gives up what they want so easily, love.” 

She looked at him wondering how he could be so certain of her. Trying to pull together a plausible string of events that could make him feel the way he claimed to feel right now. 

“Do you happen to remember being at one of my family’s Christmas parties years ago, Emma?” he asked. She shook her head yes but was unsure of where he was going with this. “I wasn’t any older than perhaps 6 or 7 at the time. And there was a group of boys playing with a pirate ship playhouse I had gotten that year.” 

The memory began to slip back into her mind. The pink blush creeping up her neck. Something she had not thought about, really ever. The only part of the Christmas party so clear in her head being the adult conversation she had heard during the game of hide and seek. 

“You and another girl had wanted to play, tiny little thing you were, but still… stubborn. And one of the boys said that girls couldn’t be pirates.” He looked down at his hands and near empty glass of wine, almost bashful. “And you were having absolutely none of it. You berated him for not letting you into the playhouse, stood up for yourself and the other girl.” 

“Jesus…” she looked down, a bit embarrassed that of all things he thought of that moment. “I never was very dainty. I can’t believe you remember that.” 

“The night I returned the Storybrooke, when I saw you in the bar I hadn’t made the connection. I was far too drunk and a bit of an ass..” 

“A bit?” She smiled. 

“But the next day when I came to the police station and I saw you, and remembered your father… that was the first thing that came to my mind.” 

There was no way her face wasn’t entirely red as he shared the story. The silence leaving room to notice just how close they were to each other on the couch despite the dog between them. 

 

Hours had gone by since he had first come over. The whole of the thing flowing so unexpectedly. They finished their wine and had another glass but that was all. Simply occupied enough by each other’s presence. They talked and joked, sharing meaningless stories. For a while they played a game of Trouble that Emma had lying around when she realized she lacked a deck of cards. Killian had never played, and the entirety of the game was amusing to Emma. 

“Emma this game requires absolutely no skill…” he was flustered, after their first round when he had learned to play. Emma laughed because she was winning… again. 

“That’s the fun, there’s no real strategy.” She hit the plastic bubble top dice spinner for her turn and moved the green pegs around to win once again. 

“Bloody hell.” His head fell into his hands, upset by another devastating loss. Despite his poor loser mentality Emma couldn’t remember the last time she had smiled so much. 

 

After the game they took the dog outside for her to stretch her legs and move. It also gave Princess the opportunity to sniff for anything that alarmed her. She didn’t come up with anything but the walk was still nice despite the late hour. 

When they came back inside Princess claimed an armchair by the window as Killian and Emma resumed their spots on the couch. And unknowingly they had gravitated closer and closer. Though no touching ever occurred. She had sensed when he had come to visit her tonight that he wasn’t looking for another of their heated encounters against a desk, or up against a brick wall in an alley, or handcuffed to a wrought iron railing. No, he didn’t come here looking for any of that. He just wanted company. 

They talked for a while, discussing their differences. How he loved to cook and she couldn’t even toast a pop tart. How he knew several languages fluently and she knew none. And then too their similarities. How they both loved old black and white movies, how they had both been exceptionally good at English class in school but opted for careers in other things. How both of them had only been in one serious relationship before. 

“After my parents’ death I threw myself into my schooling. It was important that I continue my education. I worked hard and forgot about youth, as the whole experience had been lost on me anyway… it’s hard to want a companion when you’ve never quite seen a good example of a healthy marriage.” He was opening up to her, and she with him. As the time ticked away and the natural flow of conversation led to the more personal corners of their brains. “That was until I met Grace. She, in short, changed everything for me.” 

Emma looked at the man across from her. He looked so vulnerable at the moment. What appeared to be a bit of tears forming behind his eyes but he never let them slip as he spoke of his lost love. He told his tale of lust at first site, falling irrevocably in love with the woman who would ultimately leave him broken yet again. 

“The night she left our flat she screamed at me and threw a lamp…” the sadness still there as he recalled the memory. “I wasn’t around much, I traveled for work constantly. I was caught up in making money, promotion after promotion didn’t matter to her. She wanted no part of it… no part of me.” 

Emma knew the feeling well. When she and Neal had ended their relationship it was painful. Soul crushingly painful, because you never think it will happen. There was a time Emma had thought she would marry Neal, and a time Killian had thought he would marry Grace. But neither of those things happened. 

“Neal and I were together for most of high school, off and on, we were a bit out of control then. And at first, everything was exciting. The feeling of being young and in love, like nothing can touch you. But then I got pregnant, I was only 18, and clueless. We tried to stay together, we really did but we wore each other down. There wasn’t a thing we didn’t argue about.” She thought back to fighting with him at all hours of the night, between feedings and bouts of exhaustion. If the baby wasn’t screaming she and Neal were. “We knew that if we didn’t end our relationship we would get to a point where we wouldn’t be able to be in the same room.” 

Killian reached out his hand to brush a strand of curly blond hair off her face. She leaned her cheek into his hand, relishing in his tender touch. It was electric and quite different from their encounter the other night. The flame that existed between them more tame today, but it still burned. 

They were so close and she could feel the held breath on either of their lips. The only sound around them was the light tick of the grandfather clock, the only thing keeping her on the ground. God he smelled good.

“You and I, we understand each other.” She said finally. 

“Aye, it seems we do.” He smiled as his hand fell from her cheek to her shoulder to her hand that rested on the back of the couch. It was such a stark contrast to the past few times they had been alone together. But she didn’t mind. At least not tonight, when she had been feeling so uncomfortable in her home earlier. That had seemed to slip away though, and Killian appeared to be keenly aware to not push her. 

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, love, but as it turns out I have a 7 am flight to New York and it is now…” he checked the watch on his wrist, the one attached to the hand that had held hers. She missed the brief touch the instant it was gone, but she would never say that. “... 4 in the morning.” 

“Shit…” she stood before she could think anymore about grabbing his hand again. “You should go… I mean… for your flight, not because I want… fuck.” 

He stood to meet her gaze, amused at how frazzled she had gotten so quickly. “Walk me out?” He asked, his eyebrow going up at the suggestion. Hers doing the same. 

The air in the room lightened, both stepping further away from one another. Something like disappointment rang through Emma but she ignored it. She tried to ignore it. 

“Of course.” Emma turned and led the way to the front door. Her words in her throat, waiting to come out but he had stopped to pet his dog and say goodbye. She still wasn’t wholly sure about how to care for a dog but from what she had learned of Princess thus far she seemed relatively low maintenance.

“You know, you’re the first guy to come over here that wasn’t some sort of relative… or Neal,” she joked as they walked down the hall. 

“Careful, darling. I may do this more often if I feel too welcome,” the smirk that crossed his face was borderline devious but just the right amount of charming for Emma to smile back.

They made their way to the front door in a comfortable silence. Neither truly feeling like they knew what to say. It wasn’t exactly conventional for this type of thing to happen. She didn’t hate having Killian here though. On some weird level he had taken her mind off of things. 

“Thank you, Emma, for the lovely company.” They had reached the door and now Emma didn’t know what to do. Was she supposed to hug him? Shove him out the door without another word?

“You aren’t so bad yourself.” Emma couldn’t help it when her eyes went straight to his lips. Her breath caught in her throat thinking of where his lips had last been on her body. 

“Goodnight...er morning, love.” Before she knew what was happening he was leaning toward her, closing the distance between them. His lips were soft on hers, almost as if he was asking permission to continue. She met him with equal tenderness. His hand came up to cup her cheek and his other hand found its way around her waist to pull her closer. 

She slowly deepened the kiss, wanting to go further but not wanting to ruin the intimacy of this moment. Her own arms found their way around him and she tugged lightly on the hair at the nape of his neck. Too quickly it was over and he was slowly pulling away. His cheeks were flushed a light red and Emma couldn’t bite back her smile. 

“Good morning, Killian.” She wanted to do more. Like nothing she had ever felt before she yearned for more. But the way he was staring at her wasn’t the same hungry look he had given her the night at the desk, or the night at the bar, or the time at his hotel. He wouldn’t be crossing that line tonight. 

His thumb brushed lightly over her bottom lip eliciting a tingle deep in her belly before turning and exiting through the front door. 

“Uhh, Killian,” she called to him when he was halfway down the front steps. He turned, his hair just the barest bit disheveled from her hands, his sleeves rolled up, his jeans hanging divinely. “When will you be back?” 

“I return Sunday night,” a wicked smile appeared on his face as if he could read her mind. “Will I see you then?” 

“That all depends…” Emma teased. Leaning against the doorframe, crossing her arms over her chest. “Have you had enough of me yet?”

He turned fully around marching across the porch with purpose, a furious glint in his eyes as he approached her. Heat filled Emma as he grabbed the sides of her face kissing her breathless as she leaned against the wooden frame for support. His lips less soft and more urgent as he plundered her mouth. Her hand grasped at the collar of his shirt, grounding her in the moment. If she had been worried that his lack of sexual advances tonight were in anyway indicative of fading interest in her, he proved her wrong with his kiss. His long, slow, passionate movements of his tongue leading her to a level of wanting she didn’t know existed. And all too quickly he had pulled away. 

His eyes didn’t meet hers at first, he looked to be contemplating all sorts of things as the fire from their kiss calmed. Though her heart raced with desire, he had a flight to catch. She thought that perhaps if he didn’t that the kiss would not have stopped. 

When Killian finally looked up at her, he had cooled his demeanor. Looking every bit the suave, gentleman he so often acted as. His hands fell from her face, reaching for hers that were still on his chest. 

A dark laugh from the back of his throat prefaced his words. “Does it feel as though I’ve had enough of you?” He eyed her, carefully, as he rolled his hips to meet hers so she could feel just how hard he was. 

“Because I thought I had made myself clear,” he grabbed Emma’s left hand as he continued, pulling it up to his lips to leave one last gentle kiss on the skin of her wrist. She ached, waiting for what he would say next. “Perhaps when I return I’ll have to show you just how far from the truth your question is.” 

“I look forward to it, Killian,” she answered coolly. Though her body was anything but. His handsome face twisting into a smile. 

“I’ll see you Sunday then, my darling.”

She stilled, the use of the word my that had to this point only occurred in the throes of passion. Her mind racing trying to formulate a response but she couldn’t she was focused too hard on the thought of being his. And as he turned to walk away to his car, that he would get in and ride away, she realized what he had been doing all night. 

Killian Jones, true to his word, was taking his time with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this one wasn't too much of a disappointment after last week. I know 12 was packed heavy with stuff. But fear not, trust me and the flow of the story. It will all find its way back. Please rate, review comment, discuss, message me, say hello! Whatever you feel!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since today is my birthday I decided to update before the festivities later. I realize I didn't post last week so I made this one a bit longer than usual. I hope you all enjoy and thank you so much once again for the continued support and encouragement. It means everything.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT.
> 
> Rated: M
> 
> Word Count: ~10,000

Saturday morning Emma awoke slowly. She hadn’t realized how tired she had been until her head hit the pillow after Killian left and she immediately fell into a deep sleep. Killian. Emma felt her body begin to tingle at the thought of her night with him. The whole evening had been rather PG, the food, the game, the talking, had all just been tame. Then why was she still infatuated with it? The mere thought causing her blood to flow faster. The delicate way with which he touched her was no less jarring than a few nights ago when he had fucked her up against a wall.

When she sat up in her bed she looked to the foot of the mattress and saw Killian’s dog Princess resting peacefully. A warm feeling spread through Emma. It was a nice gesture, a kind one. She reached forward to the dog and began to pet her. The dog picked her head up, gave a sleepy look to Emma, and then rested on the mattress again.

“Thank you for keeping me company,” she whispered to the dog before she got up to dress for the day.

By the time Emma had showered, blow dried her hair, and gotten dressed, the dog was waiting patiently by the closed bedroom door.

 

Ultimately the dog was a nice companion for Emma. She followed at her heels most anywhere she went. After breakfast Emma took the dog for a walk and let her roam around a bit. She was active and liked to play. So after Princess was done running around she decided to walk over to Neal’s to let the dog meet Henry.

Neal’s two bedroom apartment was on the second story of a building on Main Street. He had lived there ever since they had broken up years ago. It was smaller, it was simple, but that was Neal. He didn’t keep much around. Just enough for Henry to have his own space and some room for when Emma came over.

Neal had looked a little confused when Emma had shown up at the door with a dog. But he warmed up quickly when Princess was friendly with both he and Henry. Especially Henry, who was now sprawled out on the knit rug in the living room, playing tug with her.

“Where did she come from? Are we keeping her?” Henry was a little more enthusiastic than Emma had anticipated. She would have gotten the kid a dog years ago had she known he would be so excited.

“I’m watching her for a friend,” Emma said neutrally. Henry didn’t seem to notice but as she looked up at the brown leather couch on the other side of the room, she read Neal’s face… and it didn’t seem like he was buying that excuse.

“How long is she staying at the house?” Henry tugged against the rope Princess had her grip on. She was far stronger than the kid but she was still letting him win.

“A few days at most. I thought she might be good to have around after everything that’s been going on…” Emma pondered her next words carefully but inevitably said, “if it works out, maybe we can adopt a dog of our own.”

“Really?” Her son’s face lit up. Okay now she had to get a dog there was no way she could resist how happy that thought made the kid.

“Yes really, and if you want to come back to my house to help me take care of her now I think that would be okay.” Emma had been skeptical about letting Henry come back. The other night had been bizarre and unsettling, but after last night and knowing the dog would be there she felt a bit better. Plus she had no plans to leave Henry’s side so as long as she was with him it would be okay. Emma would like to try to see someone come at her son, whoever did would be gutted on the floor before they knew what hit them.

“I’ll grab my things.” Henry raced out of the room and down the hall to his bedroom. Leaving only Emma, Neal, and Princess.

“So,” Neal was the one to break the silence, “you’re watching her for a friend?”

A knowing look on his face told Emma he had a feeling the dog had not come from such an innocent source. But it broke into a smile a few seconds later that reached his eyes.

“It’s complicated,” she replied. Trying not to give anything away with her face, but after all this time Neal still knew her pretty well.

“It always is with you, Em,” he joked and stood. She shook her head at him, aware that he wasn’t trying to be nasty or nosy. He was just pushing her buttons, as you are allowed to do with someone when you’ve known them most of your life.

Henry returned to the room with his duffel bag over his shoulder. Princess stood up and went to his side immediately. At least they were getting along. That was a good sign.

“Are you coming to my mom’s tomorrow for brunch?” Emma asked as she, Henry and the dog were halfway down the hall. Sunday was Mother’s Day. A tough one for Neal, for many reasons. And for as long as Emma could remember he spent it with she and her parents and Henry. It wasn’t traditional, or normal, she understood that. But it was what they had always done.

“Yeah, do you need me to bring anything?” Neal asked.

“No. You know my dad, he’s got it all covered.”

“Alright, see you then, Em. Bye, Henry.” He waved and was closing the door to his apartment when someone enter the hall. Robert Gold. Followed quickly by his wife Belle.

“Hi grandpa, Belle,” Henry greeted the two but was immediately pulled by Princess’s leash as she lunged for Mr. Gold, releasing a wildly unfriendly growl.

“Hey!” Emma grabbed the leash and tugged the dog to her side. Having never seen the dog act that way she was shocked. “Sorry about that.”

“Never was much of a dog person, myself,” Mr. Gold said calmly as he looked down at the dog who was now under control but still baring her teeth. Belle looked entirely uncomfortable and her back was pressed firmly up against the wall.

The dog stilled at Emma’s side but she noticed that the fur on the back of Princess’s neck was standing straight up. She tightened her grip on the leash as Mr. Gold walked past them to get to Neal’s front door.

“I take it my son’s around?” the man asked before pulling a ring of keys from his pocket to unlock the door.

“Yeah, he’s there.” Emma turned and began to walk away. “Sorry about the dog, she’s a friend’s.”

“I’m sure.” Was the last thing Robert Gold said to her before entering his son’s apartment with his wife. Princess wasn’t the only one who felt unsettled by the whole thing.

 

The rest of the day was nice. Emma had her son back in their house and everything felt, for the most part, right. She was able to get some work done, mostly administrative tasks she had been too busy to look at. She opened all of the windows to let fresh air in, the light lull of birds chirping mixed with rustling leaves.

Henry and Princess played in the yard for a while, wearing one another out until they came in to relax. Her son on the couch by the window and the dog panting on the cool hardwood floor. They had hit it off pretty easily despite the minor hiccup at had occurred outside of Neal’s apartment. How Princess had been so quick to react to Neal’s father, when she had seen the dog be nothing but lovely to anyone else. It didn’t sit well with Emma. And it certainly didn’t help when the dog went back to being pleasantly loyal as soon as they left the building.

Mother’s Day had arrived. She didn’t love the holiday altogether but she did enjoy spending time with her family. Her father had organized a large spread at the Nolan farmhouse. The kitchen island was filled with pastries and eggs and bacon and pancakes. Flutes of champagne and orange juice were handed out to everyone but Henry. Neal showed up a few minutes after Emma did with a case of donuts. Princess stood at Emma’s feet trying to catch dropped bits of food. Her mother and father had looked questioningly at Emma when she had rolled up with a dog that didn’t belong to her. But she fed them the ‘dogsitting for a friend’ line and they took the explanation… at least on the outside. On the inside Emma read her mother’s face like a book and she could tell Mary Margaret was about to burst at the seams holding in what she wanted to say.

It was quite the scene. The five of them (well six if you include the dog) gathered around the table, laughing and smiling over a brunch they had every year together. But coincidentally it was also Sunday. The day Killian was supposed to return from New York. She thought about whether or not he would want to see her like he had said. Her mind wandered to that place, the place she had last been with him. Her porch the night she had come back to her home, after the craziest, most bizarre week he had eased the burden of it. That’s not to say she wasn’t also thinking about certain other activities with him.

It wasn’t fair. He was like a male lead from some sappy romance novel. All height and dark hair, thick and gorgeous accent, just open enough that you see he’s complicated, just closed off enough that he’s still a mystery. Everything about the man intrigued her, but if she let herself she could feel more for him and that was terrifying. The thought of placing her vulnerable heart in the hands of someone she had only encountered a short time ago. Sure she had known who he was growing up but that wasn’t like knowing him. Not the way she felt herself gravitate toward him now. Each time she was with him a deep pull from inside her made her want to be near him. With him. Ravaged by him.

“Emma, honey, pass the salt.” Her father’s voice, the one he used when he had to repeat things brought her back to where she was. Mother’s Day brunch in her parents’ dining room. With her ex-boyfriend and son. Now was not the time to be focusing on her most recent affair with Killian Jones, whose dog sat at Emma’s feet eyeing her like she knew what Emma was thinking about.

“Yeah sure.” Emma hurriedly reached out and grabbed the salt to hand to her father. Her skin warming as she did. Maybe no one noticed.

Later they exchanged gifts. Henry had gotten Mary Margaret a lovely necklace with a blue bird trinket on the chain. It was cute, it was quirky and ultimately something his grandmother would be proud to wear. She put it on immediately, asking for David the ever doting husband to help her secure the clasp.

“It’s lovely, Henry, thank you.” Mary Margaret beamed.

“And this one’s for you, mom,” Henry smiled as he handed Emma a small black velvet box and a card.

“Thanks, kid. You really didn’t have to get me anything.” She ruffled his hair and took the box, opening the card to find a heartfelt message from her son that made her tear up. And then she opened the black box. Inside was a beautiful but simple ring. Of faded metal and central pearl. The same one she had seen Henry holding in his grandfather’s shop. The one that had caught her eye. She smiled, she wore sparse amounts of jewelry but it was beautiful in it’s simplicity.

“It’s so pretty, Henry. Thank you.” As she slipped it on her finger she wrapped her arm around Henry and kissed his head, though now that he was older he didn’t find this to be as cute as she did.

“I know you don’t wear jewelry, but I thought it was small enough that it wouldn’t get in your way.”

He knew her so well.

Later that day she, Neal and Henry left with boxes of leftovers as they always did when coming from her parents’ house. Henry walked ahead of them with the dog by his side, not even using the leash, she just stayed with him. Emma’s heart warmed. The kid needed a dog.

“This kind of stuff could get weird if either of us ever decides to date anyone else…” Neal joked as they walked a few feet behind Henry and the dog.

“God forbid either of us ever get married. Then what do we do?”

“You guys are like family to me… I would probably still come.” He looked at Emma, his brown eyes kind with sincerity. If nothing else Neal was a wonderful father to Henry and a pretty decent friend to her as well. It was just a shame they were a toxic couple.

“You know you’re always welcome here. You’re like the son my dad never had.”

“And your mom’s been more of a mother to me than my own ever was.”

“Has she ever reached out to you?” They slowed a bit further, hanging back to not burden Henry with the topic of his absent grandmother. It wasn’t something usually brought up, but it was hard not to on Mother’s Day. A holiday solely dedicated to the woman who had abandoned him.

“Once or twice.” He kicked a rock with his foot as they made their way down the gravel driveway. “But it never amounts to much in my mind. She never did come back.”

“Maybe now that you’re older….” Emma didn’t know exactly what she was suggesting until she did. “You could be the one to try.”

“I have little to no interest in it.”

He was lying. She could tell. But she wouldn’t push him on the subject. It was entirely his decision as to whether or not he wanted to reconnect with Milah.

“Well if you ever want help finding her… I’m here.”

“Thanks Em.” He put his arm around her, they walked side by side, friend by friend behind their son… and Killian Jones’ dog. “Luckily, my own son has a far better mom.”

“Yeah, well. We have a good kid. He makes it easy.”

 

Later that night, Emma waited. She hadn’t waited on a man literally ever but she felt really unsure about what she should do. Killian had said he would see her when he came back, but in all fairness she didn’t know what time that was. Or if it was still happening. She hadn’t heard from him since he left her house on Friday (technically Saturday morning) and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit… on edge.

Henry went up to his room around 10:30 for bed, taking the dog with him. The two had taken to each other quickly. Emma wondered if Killian would want his dog back today now that he was back in town.

To calm her nerves she went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. She had settled into shorts and a white tank top as the weather had been warm today. Her hair, which was a bit wild from the heat, was knotted into a braid that fell down her back. Emma leaned back against the farmhouse sink, sipping her wine when there was a knock on the door. She stilled, knowing that it was most likely him. He hadn’t warned her he was coming but she had a gut feeling.

Walking toward the front door she realized she had been right. On her porch stood Killian Jones, still dressed in a full suit, this time with a tie, looking like a GQ model in his effortless handsomeness.

“Hi,” she said quietly when she opened the door. Emma wasn’t exactly a shrinking violet in any scenario but for whatever reason, there was a flutter in her stomach when she saw that he was smiling. At her.

“Hi, love. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting.”

“No, not at all.” The flush on her neck and cheeks was free for him to look at, being that her tank top did very little to hide her skin. “Did you come straight from the airport?”

The fact that he hadn’t even changed from his suit made her wonder, was he just as interested as she was?

“Aye, is that alright?” The way he asked her was measured, clearly he was still trying to decipher whether or not he was stepping over any boundaries she had set by being here.

“Yeah.” She smiled, and he did the same. His angular face giving way to a genuine grin.

“Might I come in then?” He wasn’t mocking her when he said it, she could tell, the inquiry was real.

She didn’t say anything back, simply stepping out of the way and opening the door further to allow him inside. Quietly she closed the door behind him, hoping he got the hint that she didn’t want him to leave just yet. He looked good in the entryway. His suit tailored to his thin but muscular frame. His hair tamed for once, slicked back into a mature style. His beard was trimmed but still evident and Emma wondered what the hairs on his chin would feel like between her thighs.

Killian turned to look at her. It was an odd situation they had put themselves in. They weren’t dating, it wasn’t like she could just leap into his arms cooing ‘welcome back, baby’ because he wasn’t hers. Yet they had been so intimate… so heated. The next move was not clear to either of them.

“Did you manage to keep my dog alive this weekend, Emma?” he joked, looking around and a bit concerned when Princess hadn’t run down to greet him.

“She’s fine… she’s upstairs sleeping with Henry in his room.”

“Your boy is here?” His eyebrow shot up, he obviously hadn’t expected her son to be around. Probably because she had kept that part of her life so private from him. And most people who weren’t her close friends. “Shall I go then?”

“What?” Emma was surprised, the idea of him leaving already, when she had… desires that needed taken care of, was not something she was willing to give in to.

“Emma, I’m not here to intrude… if you want to postpone this until a time when the lad isn’t upstairs I-”

She stepped closer to him. The hint of cologne on his clothes an intoxicatingly appealing smell. But there was something else, a scent entirely his own, that she had come to enjoy during their times together. Her hands drew up the lapels of his suit jacket. She didn’t miss the twitch in his demeanor as she did. The quirk of his lip.

“Do you want to leave, Killian?” She asked, moving her hands across him, doing her best to elicit the kind of reaction she knew she could. For once it wouldn’t be him who used smooth dialogue to effect her. No, this time it was her turn.

“No, I don’t want to leave.” His breath was caught as she touched him, though it was through his clothes he felt the natural pull toward her. The desperation he felt to be skin to skin.

“Then don’t.” She leaned in, taking the reigns, kissing him slowly but passionately. Melting their mouths together until she felt her core so built up she needed him immediately. “So why don’t you take me upstairs, and I’ll try my best not to scream your name.”

“Mmmm..” he groaned into her mouth, their lips not touching but close enough. “Lead the way, darling.”

Her hands fell from his jacket to his tie, pulling him toward the stairs up to where her bedroom was. Luckily her bedroom didn’t share a wall with Henry’s. She knew as much as she would probably try to keep quiet, there was only so much she could do.

Still leading him by his tie, she took him into her bedroom. Coincidentally she had changed her sheets that day and made sure her room was clean (coincidentally my ass, she thought to herself). The room was bathed in moonlight, the curtains of the windows entirely open on the warm spring night. She made it to the edge of her bed before she felt Killian behind her. Her back pressed to his front, his fully erect front.

“Lovely place you have here, darling.” His lips fell to her neck, a trail of kisses running over her exposed shoulder. The hair on his chin tickling her in the most erotic way. Her skin alight with desire, her center aching for him. This was not like the last time, there was no brick wall, no sense of urgency, no public. It was just he and her, in her room. The most intimate place to have him. And all she could think about was how badly she wanted him.

His lips went from her shoulder to her neck, kneading into her skin, his tongue painting her with arousal. She spun and wrapped her arms around his neck, meeting his lips with hers. Their mouths moving together in a hungry motion for each other. His hands went from her waist to her ass, giving a playful squeeze that made her gasp. Almost a little too loud. His touch traveled lower, with a look of victory on his face, grasping her thighs aggressively and pulling her up around him. Her legs wrapping around his waist so he was the only thing keeping her off the ground.

They continued to kiss fervidly, Emma’s insides feeling like they may explode if she kept all of these clothes on. His strong arms had her, so she released his neck grasping as the tie around his throat. In two quick moves it was off, giving her full access to the buttons of his white dress shirt. She began undoing them, hoping to reach his glorious chest, but ended up ripping the entire shirt off and half of the buttons flew in every direction. Hitting the hardwood floor one by one.

“Eager, are we?” he mumbled between kisses. In that confident voice she found so appealing.

“I just got tired of waiting,” she responded. Wrapping her legs even tighter around him, grinding her center against his to ease the ache she was feeling. The desire she felt for the friction between them. “I like… rough,” she said the word as if she were almost ashamed of it.

He ceased contact between his lips and hers to look directly into her eyes. He wondered if she had ever had a lover who had made her feel embarrassed for enjoying the rougher side of things. But her face fell a bit, she wondered if maybe she had taken things too far by saying that.

“Do you trust me, Emma?” His deep blue eyes, hooded and sincere met hers. Her legs still holding her up, his hands still under her thighs.

“Yes,” she whispered. And the truth of it was she did. She knew he could bring her to the fathomless depths of her pleasures. He already had before. And she knew he would do it again.

He didn’t say anything but his eyes didn’t leave hers as he set her down. Feet planted on the floor, his hands went to the hem of her tank top, tugging it slowly over her head. She was bare beneath it, not bothering to wear a bra… or underwear but he would find that soon enough as he moved to pull her shorts off of her. His fingers lightly brushed her skin and she felt she would combust.

“So beautiful,” he groaned, dragging a finger up her bare now bare body, slow enough that she felt every bit of it, fast enough that her blood raced along with it. “Rough, you say?”

“Yes.” She could barely get the word out. Every inch of her wishing it was up against him. Her folds dripping with desire for the man before her. He looked like a God. His white shirt open and flowing, revealing his chest, fully to her, for the first time. The dark hair on his chest trailed all the way down to the waistband of his dress pants. She was certain he caught her staring but instead he only said one thing.

“As you wish.” His tongue roved over his teeth beneath his lips. A dangerous look in his eye that both frightened and excited her. He slid the shirt off of his shoulders and it fell in a heap onto the floor. Emma’s eyes followed his hands as they began to undo his pants. Every motion deliberate as he removed his belt, the pants and underwear on the ground on top of his shirt. He was now bare in front of her. His toned body. His broad shoulders. His completely hardened cock that was… massive. She gulped looking at it. Wondering how in the world that had once been inside of her.

“Something wrong, love?”

“You’re huge.” She didn’t want to say it, his ego did not need any more inflation. But it was a fact. He was packin.

“It’s been in you before, Emma. No need to be nervous.” He stepped closer to her. Electricity between them. His face was mischievous like at any moment he would pounce. The anticipation was killing her. His fingers swiped across her aching center. Still wet with want for him, as it always was. He really did not have to do much to work her up. And he knew it. “Always so wet for me, Emma. It’s flattering really.”

She stood still as a sculpture, knowing he was going to do something, but not knowing what it was irked her. He was calculating. The tingle in her chest moving down to the place his fingers now were. Working her in and out, building the desire she felt for him.

“You’re so ready for me, love, I could fuck you right now,” he whispered in her ear. She felt her knees begin to weaken at the thought. She just needed release.

“So do it.” She ground against his fingers hoping to relieve the heat pent up in her body. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

He let out a laugh. A dark gaze on her. It was overwhelming. The way his eyes traced her body before slowly backing her against the post of the bed. She only realized she had hit the thick mahogany of the four post bed when the rolls of the wood dug into her back.

“Ooomf,” she let out a sound as soon as she hit the post. He stood inches from her. All dark hair and passion. She reached her arms up to place her hands on his bare chest. The thick black hair feeling electric on her fingers.

“Ah ah ah.” He grabbed her wrists and removed them from his chest. Emma bit back a moan at the loss of contact. “Allow me.” He took her wrists, delicately kissing each one, before wrapping them behind her back around the bedpost and securing them with a silk tie.

“What the hell?” Her hands were literally tied behind her back. She struggled to free herself but she couldn’t. “Killian… what are you doing?”

“A taste of your own medicine, my darling.” His voice lingered in her ear as he kissed just beneath it. Following the line of her neck, working his mouth downward. Slowly, excruciatingly. She was completely at his mercy, entirely vulnerable. Naked. Tied. Wanton.

“Tease.” She groaned as his kisses made their way down her body. Slowing at her breasts, his mouth latching onto one while his hand worked the other. The pink buds fully erect in seconds, her chest heaving with want as his filthy mouth nipped, sucked, licked her skin as it buzzed.

“Trust me.” Was all he murmured as his mouth left her nipples, now fully hard and wishing he would go back. But as his mouth got closer and closer to her core, she moaned. “Your body seems to.”

He wasn’t wrong. Every limb of hers curled in toward him for some form of contact. She couldn’t deny the effect he had on her. His mouth finally reached the top of her thighs. The apex now dripping in anticipation. His lips met her folds, plundering without much warning, sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

Emma’s leg rested on top of his shoulder. His mouth invading her most intimate place with such confidence and such force she could barely hold herself up. His beard scratched at her skin. Her other leg found its way to his shoulder so he was the only thing holding her up.

“You taste delicious, love.”

“Killian… please…” she begged as he continued to work her, but not letting her fall. Teetering her on the edge as his tongue explored her. Sucking on the juices pouring from within. “Killian…. My god…”

It was enough to fuel him. Her begging. His hunger. Killian rose from his knees to stand in front of her, fully hard. His pink lips puffy from his kisses, his hair disheveled. She thought he would untie her, take her to the bed to fuck her. But instead he readied himself and grabbed her legs. They wrapped around his waist instinctively. Her lack of release still built inside of her. She thought she may come just from their centers meeting. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, to grab onto his hair, to touch every part of him she could but her arms were still tied.

He aligned himself with her dripping folds, the tip teasing the entrance. He groaned though it was the barest of touches. His eyes fluttered closed, he seemed to be composing himself. His handsome face twisted into a devilish smirk as his baby blues revealed themselves again. Without warning he plunged deep within her. Emma cried out not thinking. The sensation at first shocking but then immense. He bottomed out immediately.

“Though it would have been a pleasure to make you come with only my mouth, I couldn’t spend another second without being inside of you… so bloody tight.” As he spoke he took a second to let her adjust to his size. Emma eyed him. He had the oddest ways of displaying how he was a gentleman.

“Just fuck me, Killian. I can’t…” all of her strength was currently dedicated to holding her legs around him. Her back pressed against the post. Her body ravaged with passion. Her breath heavy, chest heaving, hair falling from its braid. She must have looked a mess. His hands found her ass, caressing the skin there.

“You’re being awfully loud, darling. Perhaps a punishment is in order.”

Before she could respond, her wit not as quick when she was on the cusp of climaxing, he removed one hand from her ass and brought it back down with a smack. Her head fell back against the post. The pain and the pleasure so overstimulating. His lips found her neck, licking over her. His hand smacked her again causing waves of sensation through her.

He pulled out and slammed back in again, her body shuddering as he found his rhythm. Fucking. Grinding at her center. No holds barred. Rough. Sex. The friction on her clit causing her eyes to roll back into her head. It was so much. It was too much. But she wanted more.

“You have a fantastic ass,” he whispered as he continued the aggressive roll of his hips. He bit her earlobe, and her neck. Most certainly not being gentle. Her ass would be red for days, the bruises on her hips from his hands would appear.

His hand slipped from her ass to her core, teasing her. Emma’s hands pulled at the ties, those would bruise too. But she didn’t care. He ripped her hair entirely from its braid, setting it free around them. Running his fingers through it. Only to pull it into his hand and wrap it around his own wrist.

“I like something to hold onto,” he thrusted, so close, “My beautiful, Emma.”

His stubble brushed her chin as his lips met hers in one final surge of passion, a bruising kiss, as she reached her peak. The pleasure so intense and so overwhelming she could hardly breathe as she ground into him while he released himself into her. They fucked each other through, not stopping until the throbbing ceased.

Emma felt like she might faint. Never having experienced passion like that, her body so overcome by it. Her legs fell from his waist too weak to hold the position any longer. Blood coursed through her veins, heart racing, his release dripping down her leg.

“Emma, love, are you alright?” His face had gone from devilish to concerned in a matter of seconds as he realized she couldn’t stand on her own. He untied her, her wrists stiff and sore from being wrapped for so long. And he caught her as she stumbled.

“Sorry, I’m just not…” She couldn’t even remember if she had ever had sex that good. “It’s never been that…”

“I’ll take your speechlessness as a compliment.” He was still holding her. Such a chaste gesture after such raucous behavior. She looked up at him and smiled a bit, a little embarrassed at just how good he had been. “Here, lay down.”

He scooped her up in his strong arms and laid her down on the sheets. Leaving the room only to return with a wet washcloth to clean her off.

“Well aren’t you a gentleman,” she joked as he carefully wiped away the evidence of their encounter.

“I’m always a gentleman.” He smirked.

“Do all gentleman tie women up in their own homes?”

He leaned down close to her face. His features dark and stormy. God was he attractive. “Only when the woman begs for it.” He winked before rising back up and picking up his previously shed clothes. Killian began to redress himself and as Emma watched him she considered asking him to stay. After all, if she could get another round like that out of him he could stay for a whole week.

He caught her staring at him… again. “I’m just following the rules,” he said straightening the collar of his shirt. Though he couldn’t button it, and he shot her a sardonic look when he remembered all of the buttons were dispersed on her bedroom floor. Once sufficiently clothed he leaned back down to her, without hesitation, and kissing her. The hunger beneath his lips evident as he begged entrance to her mouth. She moaned, grabbing his hair, as she had wanted to do the whole time.

When he pulled away they were both out of breath. The sexual tension still there though they had just thoroughly fucked one another.

“Remember, darling. No sleepovers.”

Her mind cursed her own rule she had given him, wishing he would stay for another round. But her stubbornness and sheer exhaustion took over. She remained silent as she watched him leave her bedroom, not even staying awake long enough to hear him start his car to drive off.

 

It was like that for two weeks. He never asked to stay over, though they were together almost every night. The floodgates had opened. Each night with him was different, unique in and of itself. Her sexual experiences with him unlike any she had ever had. It had been so long since she had had good sex, it wasn’t something she was willing to back down on. And he didn’t seem to want to back down either. Spending hours lazily kissing one another in bed, alternating between positions, taking turns pleasuring one another until they could no longer breathe.

During the day she would work. Fully focused on the task at hand. Doing her best not to reveal to anyone else she worked with what was going on between she and Killian. Emma researched as much as possible. The clues at a standstill since the one at her door. Sometimes after they finished having sex, the two would lay together for a while just to talk. He often spoke of his early years, his childhood far different from hers. Killian always expressed wanting to help find the murderer of his parents but some things were far too personal for him to dive into. It provided a closeness between the two. A foundation for conversation that would allow them to get to know each other better.

But this was not always the case. There was one night in particular where she went over to his hotel for their nightly encounter, and not one single word was spoken between the two before fucking.

It was late, as it usually was with them, they hadn’t seen each other the night before because Emma had fallen asleep. The combination of long nights with Killian and long days spent on the investigation taxing her body relentlessly. But she wanted to see him again, the thought of missing another night in his bed upsetting her more than she would ever admit. So nonchalantly she had told him she would come over that night.

The man at the front desk of Killian’s hotel had come to recognize her by now, giving her a subtle wave as she made her way to the elevator that would take her to his penthouse. Anticipation bubbling within her as the pleasure that was to come.

The elevator dinged and let her out in the foyer of his hotel suite. A large empty space, dimly lit by the overhead chandelier. She wasn’t two steps inside before seeing Killian descend the spiral staircase, looking more like a royal than a man. His gaze pointed, piercing. Heat boiled within her veins, her stomach, her aching core. With purpose he crossed the floor to where she was, not wasting another second before mounting her on the circular wooden table central to the room. The vase of flowers atop crashing to the floor as he pushed her over the surface. Thrusting into her with all of the force her body could take. His lips all over her, trailing her skin, fucking her wordlessly. His hands rough on her hips, his cock pumping into her. She could barely catch her breath.

“Already so wet for me, Emma. You’re just as filthy as I am.” He breathed into her ear, continuing to fuck her through to her peak. “Say my name, love.”

“Killian…” she moaned. Weak to any command he gave her at this point.

“There’s a good girl.” The more she cried out for him the harder he thrust, until finally the table beneath them gave way. Collapsing from the passionate tryst it had been subjected to. Killian caught her, not missing a beat, before continuing his motions on the marble floor.

Emma boldly flipped over so he was on his back and she was on top. Still fully sheathed inside of her, Emma began to grind her hips, taking control.

“That’s it, darling. Ride me.” His eyes shut, allowing her to fuck him, his hands on her hips steadying her, keeping pace with her. Emma could barely contain herself anymore.

“Killian… I’m gonna…” was all she was able to croak out as she reached her peak. The wave of passion crashing through her body. She shook as she climaxed, and felt him do the same. Her pussy milking his cock of its seed as he too fell. Kissing her breasts, neck, arms, mouth, anything he could reach.

She stared at him breathlessly in the wake of their passions, wondering if she would ever in her life find another man who could even compete.

“Emma, love, what have you done to me?” he asked in the afterglow. Expressing once again how all consuming their encounters had been.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

And now, two weeks from that night in her bed when he had tied her up, they lay together amongst ruffled sheets. It was a Friday night. Henry was with Neal for the weekend fishing. She had the house to herself. Well that was, until Killian came over. Tonight had been different. Emma wasn’t sure if it was because they had the house to themselves or because it was a Friday and neither of them had to be at work in the morning, but the entire encounter had been so… slow. And not in a bad way. Their usual biting had become kissing, scratching had turned to caressing.

From the time he walked in the door there wasn’t a striking urgency to fuck each other into oblivion. They took their time. Eventually making their way to the bedroom, where they fucked long, slow, excruciating. If she didn’t know any better she would call it something else entirely. Because it felt less like fucking and more like… well like something else.

“You know, I haven’t had anyone in this bed… ever.” Emma didn’t meet his eyes as she said it. She was curled up against his chest. His arm hanging loosely on her hip. His other bent to hold his head up. Post sex. His seed dried between her thighs, sweat coating both of their bodies. She played with the hair on his chest, probably one of her favorite features on him. Or at the very least it was in the top 5. “I don’t know why I said that… it probably doesn’t reflect too kindly on the kind fuck I am.”

His hand went from her hip, reaching up to cup her cheek. The motion so gentle, as if she were made of porcelain. “Darling, you are a phenomenal lover.”

Lover. Was that was this was now? The title not the worst thing in the world. But the use of the word ‘love’ so foreign to her.

“And it’s an honor to be in your bed.” His gaze finally connected with hers. She tried to find the slightest bit of deception. Of mockery. But came up with nothing. He was being honest. He always was with her. Killian bent his head down and kissed her forehead. So lightly. But she felt it all over.

“What’s your favorite color?” she asked, walking outside of her comfort zone to learn a bit more about him.

“Excuse me?” He was confused, such a light and simple question not usually in their vocabulary, the circumstances of their time together heavier than usual small talk.

“Your favorite color, I want to know what it is.”

He smiled a bit, almost like no one ever took the time to know such a small thing. Meeting her eyes directly he whispered, “Green… and yours?”

“Blue,” she said without hesitation.

“People don’t really ask me questions like that,” he offered honestly. Just as she had suspected. “I think I may come off as a bit… intimidating.”

“You? Never!” she joked. Remembering the first day she had seen him in the office. His suit. His smoldering frown. He came off hard. But she assumed that was from years of closing himself off to survive the aftermath of losing his parents. “It’s okay. No one ever asks me that kind of stuff either.”

“Aren’t we quite the pair?” the air of his voice when he referred to them as a pair was so light but quickly his face darkened. “Emma I didn’t mean to insinuate that…”

“Why don’t you stay tonight?” she blurted out.

“Emma...” He seemed a bit hesitant. Maybe she had read him wrong. Maybe he didn’t want to sleep in the same bed with her. But then his face softened and a smile that reached his eyes overtook his features. “I would love to.”

He grabbed her face with both hands and pulled her into a kiss that turned heated in mere seconds. Tangled together in the sweat stained sheets, they lazily kissed for what felt like hours before he took her again. Bringing her to completion before they fell into a deep and comfortable sleep. Wrapped in his arms, her back to his front, she felt safe.

 

Saturday morning Emma awoke expecting panic. She expected the usual anxiety she felt when she slept with a man. But this wasn’t just any man, this was Killian. He was still fast asleep in the early morning light. Handsome as ever. His face looked young, relaxed. His dark brows, hair and beard unruly with sleep. Her hand absentmindedly went to his cheek.

“See something you like, love?” his voice was scratchy with morning, accent thick. Her breath caught at the sound. How was it possible his voice was even more gorgeous in the morning?

“Good morning, Killian.” She smiled. His eyes slowly opening to look up at her. They were both still naked from the night before. But she didn’t feel exposed.

“Good morning, darling.” He sat up. His hair stuck out in all directions and Emma had to fight back a laugh at how disheveled he was.

“Last night was…” she didn’t know what to say. Because it was everything. But she didn’t want to say that, at the risk of sounding like a maniac. “Amazing.”

“Aye, it was. My life has been far more…. Pleasurable with you in it.” He was holding back too she could tell. Two incredibly stubborn humans. She didn’t have time to say anything more because her phone was ringing. Looking at the screen it was Henry. She had been adamant about him checking in during his weekend away. She hadn’t spent much time apart from Henry since the day he returned after the mysterious note distributor had paid a visit to their home.

“I have to take this, it’s Henry,” she said to Killian.

“Of course, love, mind if I put on a pot of coffee?”

“Sure, filters are above the fridge, coffee’s in the cupboard next to it,” she finished explaining to Killian just as she swiped to answer the phone.

“Hey kid, how’s fishing?” Killian left the room, slipping on a pair of briefs before heading downstairs to make the coffee. Henry launched into a detailed explanation of the entire 18 hours since he and Neal had arrived at the camp. Everything from the weather to the cabin to the morning they had spent at the lake. On and on. It was amusing to Emma, but eventually after 3 minutes of straight talking Henry told his mother he had to go. That they were going back out on the boat.

“Alright, kid call me later okay?” She managed to get out before they hung up. As she set her phone back on her nightstand she reached for Killian’s button up that was strewn on the floor. It smelled like him. Slipping it on it felt nice. Her calmness was short lived when she heard a voice calling to her from downstairs. Her whole body went still. The hair on her arms standing up.

“Emma. Marie. Nolan.” Her father.

Emma moved quickly. Once the shock to her system had settled in she needed to get downstairs as quickly as possible. Because if what she thought was happening in her kitchen was actually happening, then Killian Jones was standing next to her coffee maker on a Saturday morning in nothing but his briefs. And her father was there too.

Which was exactly what she walked into when she came down the stairs and rounded the corner to the kitchen. Except it was worse. Much worse. Because not only was David Nolan standing there, grocery bag in hand. To his right was her mother, whose face was visibly red. And last but not least Killian who was, in fact, right next to the coffee pot. Shirtless. Pantsless. Looking like a deer in the headlights.

“What are you guys doing here?” Was the first thing out of Emma’s mouth when she had her bearings.

“We thought it would be nice to come over and cook you breakfast…” her mother spoke. David on the other hand was staring at the half naked man in Emma’s kitchen. He looked so mad she was certain fumes were coming from the top of his head.

“You didn’t think to call first?” Emma responded. She glanced at her parents, then to Killian, who had never looked so shy in the entire time she had known him.

“We, uh, we didn’t think we had to.” Mary Margaret, clearly not knowing what to do with herself, began fiddling with the bag in her hands.

“Dad…?” David finally looked at her. His face a wash of anger, disappointment, protectiveness. In all fairness, her father had only ever seen her with one guy. He was in no way used to the notion of her having a man in her life. If that’s what Killian could be called. “Why don’t you guys start breakfast, and give us a minute?”

It probably didn’t help that Emma was obviously wearing a shirt that did not belong to her and had a hickey the size of a chicken nugget on her neck but her father didn’t say another word. He just set the bags on the counter, getting ready to cook breakfast. Mary Margaret looked over at Emma, her mother not nearly as angry as her father. She watched her mom grab her dad’s wrist, and whisper something that apparently eased his temper a bit. Because the redness faded from his face and he came off a bit lighter than when she had first entered the room.

Emma motioned for Killian to walk over to her. Mr. Suave had completely lost any bravado in this compromising position. He walked over to her, a sense of urgency in his step as they tucked themselves in the hallway to have a private moment.

“Emma, I tried to.. They came in without knocking I couldn’t hide fast enough,” his speech was frantic. It was endearing. How nervous he had gotten at the sight of her parents. Killian had met David plenty of times before, but not in this kind of scenario.

“Shh, it’s okay. It isn’t your fault. I’m sorry, I really didn’t know they were coming here. You can leave if you want.”

But just as she gave him the way out she heard her mother call from the other room. “Killian, honey would you like to stay for breakfast?”

Emma’s head fell back and hit the wall. The torture being inflicted on her right now was most certainly karmic repayment for letting him sleepover.

“Perhaps, we should go get dressed, love.” He tugged at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. When she put it on she assumed it would be like a fun, sexy, normal thing to do the morning after sex. But again. The universe had slapped her in the face for it. “Though I must say it looks better on you.” He winked at her. The embarrassment leaving him the more time they were out of view.

“You can’t do this right now…” she put her hands on his bare chest. Trying to push him away but found herself drawn to how warm he was. Fuck.

“Do what?” He inched closer. Eyebrow up, tongue exposed.

“Flirt with me… they’re right there.”

“I hate to break it to you, love, but I think our cover is blown,” he whispered. How he had gone from shy, blushing, Killian in the kitchen to this insatiable flirt she would never understand.

“Just… let’s go get dressed. We don’t need to make this any worse than it is.”

She pulled away from him, wishing she didn’t have to. While against the wall she wondered whether or not he would have fucked her right there if her parents hadn’t crashed their morning. Something she would never know, she thought, as she walked up the creaky wooden stairs to her bedroom. She and Killian did their best to appear presentable for breakfast but it was truly a lost effort. Mary Margaret and David knew what was going on. Even as they tried to ignore the elephant in the room, sitting around the kitchen table eating breakfast.

Emma’s mother, at the very least, spoke to Killian. Clearly trying to make him feel more comfortable. Mary Margaret far more open to this situation. While David just frowned, eating his pancakes bit by bit. Emma’s spine felt like it had a rod through it, she was so stiff from the tension between she and her father. For the first time in a very long time he was not pleased with her.

After breakfast, Killian dismissed himself. Telling everyone he needed to get back to his hotel and to his dog. Mary Margaret and David both looked at each other, knowingly. Probably putting the pieces together about the dog that had been at their house on Mother’s Day two weeks ago. If Emma melted into a puddle right then and there she truly would not have minded. It would save her the task of having to talk to her parents after Killian left.

She walked him to the door. Feeling far too embarrassed about the way their first overnight visit had gone to even hug him. Luckily he took his own liberties with her.

“I’ll call you later, darling.” His hands went around her waist. Pulling her to him. She couldn’t help but feel the charge that surged through her.

“You really don’t have to do that.”

“Ah but I want to. That’s the thing.” His smirk challenged her. As much as she tried to fence herself off she knew Killian Jones didn’t do anything he didn’t want to do.

“This morning was kind of… weird.”

“Interestingly enough I don’t blame you for that.” He reached up, twirling a piece of blonde hair between his fingers. “Besides, I think your mother is starting to like me.”

Him making light of the situation made her feel the slightest bit better. But she still wasn’t thrilled. As much as she wanted to use this morning as an excuse to never have him stay over again, she knew 99% of their night had been… incredible.

“Emma, I don’t want to upset you… or make you uncomfortable. If last night was too much we can just go back to-”

She cut him off with her lips. Kissing him as she had wanted to since she woke up. His soft mouth moving with hers. Emma hoped this gave him enough of an answer without having to say any more.

“Alright then.” When he pulled away his hand found his lips, certain he felt the buzz she did when their skin met. “I’ll call you later.”

“Thank you for staying, Killian!” Emma’s mother’s voice came from the kitchen. There was no way the woman hadn’t been eavesdropping the entire time. Emma rolled her eyes.

“Thank you for having me!” He yelled back. An amused look on his face as he slipped out the door.

When Emma walked back into the bright kitchen her father was at the sink washing dishes and her mother was sitting at the table setting down her mug of coffee. A massive grin on Mary Margaret’s face.

“There’s an envelope on the table for you. It arrived this morning,” David said, finishing up the last of the dishes. The air seemed to lighten between the two of them. Whatever was inside the envelope a peace offering from her dad.

Emma’s eyes scanned the package, relief washing over her when she realized it was a real piece of mail. From a real person. Not some manipulative coward who dropped clues on her porch instead of just coming forward. No, this was exactly what she had been waiting for. The drawings Archibald Hopper had promised her. The ones Moira Jones did during her sessions with him.

“It’s the sketches,” Emma said aloud to no one in particular. Tearing through the seal to reveal a stack of art.

“I’ve looked through them but nothing stuck out to me. I figured you have a better eye than me.” Her dad looked apologetic as he said it. Neither one of them could stay mad at the other for long. They were too similar. “Take some time, look through them, see what you think.” David put his arm around her, kissing her forehead before leaving the house with his wife in toe.

To say Emma was relieved was an understatement. The morning had been… trying. And now she had some time alone to focus. She could get some work done, look at Moira’s sketches. Take in all there was to analyze. Enjoy the quiet. She almost wished Killian was still here so he could see the talent his mother had. Chances are he had never seen any of her work.

Emma posted up at her table, flipping through the stack of drawings. The morning and afternoon went by slowly as she picked through the art. Amongst them were sketches of their home. The flowers that lined the driveway in full bloom, an antique car parked in front. A picturesque scene. Two little boys running through the landscaping, an image of innocence Emma could only assume was a depiction of Liam and Killian.

Another showed a tea kettle, atop an antique stove, spouting steam. A simple mug shadowed in the corner. The attention to detail in each picture astounding for someone who managed to do these during weekly therapy sessions.

The last drawing in the stack showed hands. Four to be exact. Two dainty, soft hands resting over a belly. A simple wedding band on the left hand. Slightly covered by the rough hands of a more masculine entity. It looked like a close up of a maternity photo shoot, the shading of the belly appearing rotund. But there was something on the other hand. The right hand of the woman had a ring in the mirror position of the wedding band. She had to look once, twice, three times to ensure what she saw was correct. Holding her own hand in comparison, the ring in the drawing was the exact same ring she wore on her own finger.

The simple, unique pearl ring Henry had given her as a gift for Mother’s Day. The ring that had come from Neal’s father’s shop…

Emma gulped. It added up. The odd behavior, the constant arrogance associated with the investigation, the reclusivity from society. Emma did the math in her head, the ages were certainly plausible. Moira Jones would have been almost identical in age to Mr. Gold had she still been alive. She thought back to the way in which Killian’s dog had reacted so negatively to the sight of only one man. The same exact ring that had been in his shop, was the one in a drawing from over twenty years ago. And she had her suspect. Robert Gold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. I aim to please! Thank you for reading :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the past couple of weeks have been a lil crazy. I finished college on Friday so the weekend was not a productive time for me. A lot of celebrations and a lot of champagne. The chapter took a bit longer than anticipated but here it is! 
> 
> Thank you for all of the support, as always the kind words in the comments and kudos and messages are amazing. So please continue to let me know how you feel. I love hearing! 
> 
> Disclaimer: as always I own nothing, all rights to OUAT. 
> 
> Rating: M 
> 
> Word Count: ~6400

Emma hardly processed her next moves before she realized she was driving. Her bug flying through the streets as the sun set on the horizon. The sky painted in hues of pink and orange. The day had gotten away from her. The gears turned in her head as she pictured the drawing. The careful strokes and shading of the hands, the ring that had once belonged to Moira Jones was still on her finger. Her skin crawled at the thought. 

As she made the final turn to her destination her phone rang. Without looking at the caller ID she swiped to accept the call. 

“Hello?” she said into the speaker. 

“Hi, Emma.” The familiar lilting English accent wrapped around her name caught her off guard. 

“Killian.” 

“I told you I would call, love. You sound surprised.” 

“Not surprised, just… in the middle of something.” 

“Anything I can help with?” the tone of his voice changed. Maybe he picked up on the animosity in her own voice, she wasn’t sure. But there was more behind his question than just general curiosity. 

Her car was parked now. Stopped in front of the old Jones mansion. The task seemed more daunting than it had when she had left her own home. “A big piece of information fell into my lap today… about your mother...” Emma was unsure of whether or not he would even be comfortable coming to his old house. “I need to go with it and just see what else I can find before I take this to the rest of my team.” 

“Emma, darling, where are you?” 

“I’m at your parents’ house.” She could have stopped there. She could have. “If you want to meet me.” 

There was a long pause. No doubt weighing the emotional implications of what returning to his childhood home would do. 

“I’ll be right there.” 

 

Emma sat in her car. Staring up at the crumbling grandeur of the Jones mansion. The fading beauty of a once affluent family. She wasn’t sure what she was coming here looking for. But she knew she needed more to go on. Robert Gold was her son’s grandfather. Her ex-boyfriend’s father. If there was any possibility that she was wrong about her gut instinct, it could hurt two of the most important and steadfast people in her life. She had to be certain. And now that she knew the compass was pointing in the direction of Mr. Gold, it would be easier to decipher what was relevant and what wasn’t. 

When she saw headlights behind her in the circular driveway she felt a bit relieved. Because neither one of them would have to enter this house alone. She unbuckled and righted herself to go see Killian. This was far different from the most recent evenings they had spent together. But there was a part of her that was comforted by the fact that he was here anyway. 

“Hi,” Emma said as Killian walked toward her, locking his car. 

“Hello.” His voice was terse, and his eyes locked with hers instead of the staggering house behind her. 

“If this is too much for you, you don’t have to be here.” She took a chance and stepped closer to him. Though the nature of this encounter wasn’t…. sexual, she wondered if he minded her proximity. In a way Emma was testing the waters. But he didn’t pull away, instead leaning into how close she was. Brushing hair from her shoulder. A move he had all but trademarked at this point. 

“I want to be here. I want to help.” His eyes were light, a soft expression on his face. But all the while a sadness behind it. This was a monster he was finally confronting. And he was trusting Emma to be the one he did it with. 

Silently she took his hand. The strong lines meeting hers. The electricity melding them together. But it wasn’t the same current of passion, or lust… or whatever it was between them. There was an anxiety that came from going into this house. And she was willing to take some of that on for him. As much of it as she possibly could. They stepped into the house and his hand squeezed hers ever so slightly, she realized in some remote way he was grateful. 

"I haven't been back since that night." His eyes didn't meet hers when he said it, instead they drank in the sight around him. The total disrepair of the Jones estate, his old home now crumbling around them. They shouldn't be here. Not with the investigation still at large. However, the house technically belonged to Killian and Liam as they were the heirs of the estate. She couldn’t imagine either of them wanting much to do with it. He took a few steps forward releasing her hand. Emma bit back a slight intake of breath when he let go. She missed his touch almost immediately.

“If this is too difficult, you don’t have to help, Killian. I know you want to but this…” she looked at him, trying to gauge his level of discomfort. “This must be so hard to be back here.” 

Killian stepped closer to her. His feet shuffling through the debris littered on the tile. His hand reached up and brushed hair off of her face before taking his thumb and wiping the single tear from her cheek. She stood still as this man, this beautiful and broken man who had lost nearly everyone and experienced such tragedy could still touch her like there was light left in his heart.

"Don't cry, love. It was all a very long time ago." His hand cupped her cheek and pulled her so they were eye to eye, "You've helped me more than you could ever know."

Her heart fluttered from his words. She believed them.

“In a way, it’s good this has all resurfaced again,” he said, standing inches from her. The fabrics of their clothes almost touching. “It’s a demon I haven’t dealt with, really, ever.” 

“You were sixteen when it happened, of course you didn’t.” 

“I know. And perhaps this all is a way for me to gain some sort of closure. Whatever that means.” His hand went up to scratch behind his ear. The vulnerability filling the room. “Now, why are we here?” 

“I think I found something… someone actually who may have been responsible for the murder.” Emma knew it was entirely wrong to be divulging this level of information to him. But she also knew he would help her in anyway that he could. 

“You’ve figured it out?” He looked utterly shocked. The cat and mouse game being played during this investigation had affected him differently but it was still there. 

“I think that I have but I need more to go off of.” She didn’t want to tell him everything, at least not in so many words. The kind of accusations she was making against her son’s grandfather made everything that much more delicate. “It’s complicated.” 

“Are we looking for something specific?” His brow furrowed. Fair enough. How was he supposed to help if he didn’t know what they were looking for? 

“No… but I have a general idea of where we need to be.” She bit her lip. “First of all does this ring look familiar to you?” 

Emma held the ring up to Killian’s line of sight. He lightly grabbed her hand, she tried to ignore the pull toward him. Hoping they could move through this without getting carried away… physically. 

He rotated the silver band within his fingers. Pensive. “Not that I’m aware of.” 

She read him. It was easy enough, he was telling the truth. 

“I have reason to believe it belonged to your mother… that it was a sort of symbol of her relationship with the man she had an affair with.” 

“I see.” 

“I’m looking for any other kind of memento she kept around the house. Anything that would support this hypothesis of mine.” 

“She kept all of her things in her closet… jewelry and such would probably all be in there.” He knew she would be aware of that. He knew Emma was obviously intuitive enough to put that together, but she would never mock him for offering the statement anyway. It sounded more so like he was reasoning it in his head as he said it, an attempt to process his first time being here in so long. 

“Of course.” Her hand went from his, to the side of his face. He was tearing up. His blue eyes even more so from the tears. 

“Liam and I, we um, we used to play in there. All of the clothes, and shelves… it made for a nice playground.” A smile played on his lips, a sad one, but nevertheless it was there. 

“You don’t have to come into their bedroom if you don’t want to.” 

Her closet would have been off of the master bedroom. The same place where Killian had walked in to find his parents murdered nearly twenty years prior. It was the place his crumbling world had finally shattered to pieces. And Emma did not want to be the one responsible for dragging him back in there. 

“Thank you,” his voice came out in barely a whisper and he didn’t pull away from her touch. It was interesting how just twenty four hours before they were laying together in bed, reveling in the afterglow of passionate sex. Now they were engaging in something just as intimate but far less pleasurable. 

He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into a hug. One that warmed her entire body as he encircled her. It wasn’t amorous or sensual in any way, just… grateful. 

“But I think I’m ready to see… their room,” he mumbled into her hair. Emma pulled her face back, a bit surprised. “Come. I would like to see some of the rest." He reached for her hand again and began pulling her toward the stairs, his choice of the word "some" did not go unnoticed by her in the slightest. 

The room was overrun with leaves and twigs and branches. The skylight above had broken, leaving the master suite vulnerable to the elements. The floors warped from a leak in the roof that had gone unrepaired. She could barely make out the presence of furniture. A four poster king size bed was against the far wall by the windows. A dresser was to her right, moon beams from the window. 

Emma looked over at Killian, who stood next to her in the double doorway. Her eyes caught the space on the floor where she knew the bodies had been. The bodies on his parents. The darkness of the moment crawling through her skin. She could not even imagine how he was feeling. 

“The closet’s to the left, darling.” He finally broke the silence. Obviously not wanting to linger in the space. 

Her eyes found the door to the closet and she walked toward. Killian on her heels. There was no guarantee she would even find anything helpful. The amount of time that had gone by combined with how messy everything had been with the investigation could have wiped away anything concrete Emma hoped to find. 

The closet was in slightly better shape than the rest of the house had been though. The lack of windows and privacy making it almost like a vault from the outside world. That being said it was completely dark so the door had to be left open. Emma had also brought a flashlight because she had a feeling electricity would not be available. From what she could see there were still clothes hanging on the racks. Moira’s on one side, Brennan’s on another. Shelves of shoes was on the far wall. Everything preserved like a tomb. 

“You guys lived rather large, I’ll give you that.” Emma noted. The rack of thick fur coats untouched and ostentatious. 

“They had an awful lot of money and weren’t afraid to spend it.” 

A vanity was set up between a few racks of clothes. The wood surface dusty from years of neglect. A framed photo of Moira and Brennan on their wedding day. Young, loving, naive. A bouquet of lilies in Moira’s hand. Brennan’s hand around her waist. A handsome man in his day. Say what you want about them, but they were an attractive couple. 

“Your mother was very beautiful,” Emma offered peacefully. 

“Aye, she would have liked you, you know.” 

Emma looked up at Killian in the dark. But she could still read his face. The statement was heavy. The mere thought of meeting his parents overwhelming. But instead she wondered, “why’s that?” 

“Because you’re smart, and driven, and selfless…” He looked down at his feet, seemingly gearing up for whatever was coming next. “Because you make her son happy.” 

The honesty in his eyes was paralyzing. But the whole experience was cathartic for him. And she was glad he was here, able to even speak of his mother. Emma wanted to kiss him, she wanted to reach up and touch him. But this was a sensitive place. He wasn’t being flirtatious when he told her he made her happy. 

Like he was almost reading her mind he leaned down and pressed the barest of kisses on her lips. A small reminder that, though they weren’t in bed together, there was still something between them. Reeling from the chaste kiss, Emma turned and began digging through the contents of the vanity. 

There was some jewelry, an old brush, a sleeping mask. Nothing to raise an eyebrow at. Drawer by drawer she went through, Killian behind her holding the flashlight so she could see. Emma smiled finding a remaining picture of a young Killian. Though it was covered with dust she picked it up and cleaned off the frame.

"What have you got there, love?" he inquired shifting to see what she had picked up. A smile spread across his face as well. The picture was of him, probably no more than five or six years old, with a big grin on his face (missing teeth and all) in the big circular driveway out front standing next to a bike. "That was my first bike. I begged my parents for one and I finally got it."

"You were adorable." Her hand affectionately touched the frame.

"Were?" his eyebrow popped up as if to say 'I'm still fucking adorable'.

"You didn’t turn out so bad."

Emma peered closer. Moira Jones was behind him. Her arms around her son’s shoulders smiling just as big as Killian was. The sentiment was adorable. That it was something his mother kept so close to her. But then Emma’s eyes caught something. The faint outline of it in the background. A cane. 

“Oh my god,” Emma gasped. The distinct presence of black pants, the body of its owner held up by a cane. 

“What is it, love?” 

“Killian, do you ever remember a man with a cane coming to your house?” Emma pointed to the fraction of a person in the background of the picture. Killian held the flashlight toward the photo. 

“One of my mother’s doctors had a cane… he used to come to the house.” 

“So he would just come to your house for checkups?” This wasn’t adding up in her head. Why would Gold pretend to be a doctor? Just to come over? 

“He was my mother’s therapist. For a while actually. But then one day he stopped coming over. So I assumed she was better.” 

Now it made sense. The reason Killian had told Emma his mother had been in therapy as long as he could remember. Because Gold had pretended to be her doctor. It gave them the perfect excuse to see one another. And the reason Killian had spent so little time in the town of Storybrooke. He had never been to Granny’s. He had no connection with anyone in town. Why his family never went there, because his mother was keeping them away from realizing Robert Gold wasn’t actually a psychiatrist but the owner of the local antique shop. Where the ring had made its way back to, because he had been the one to give it to Moira Jones. 

“Killian, this man… he wasn’t a doctor.” She braced herself. This was enough, it was enough to go to her father with. Emma was certain Gold was behind this, all of this. But she couldn’t tell Killian right now. There was only so much she could reveal to him ahead of the investigation team. “My intuition was right, about the person I think it was.” 

She was eye to eye with him now. “I need to talk to everyone at the station… it’s just what needs to happen. But I promise, as soon as things are more concrete I will tell you.” 

“Okay, love.” He knew they were already dancing on a fine line just being here. There was a level of understanding between them that allowed this to even happen in the first place. “I trust you.” 

 

A few moments later they were standing out front, Killian ready to get in his car and drive away. Which was the last thing she wanted, she wanted to just spill the whole thing and tell him what she knew. But she had already broken so many rules, so much protocol by even being here with him. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait here with you until your father arrives?” Killian asked, backing her against his car. She wished she could just get in the passenger seat and ride away with him. But she had called David, he was on his way with Graham. They would be here soon and she would tell them everything. 

“This is something I need to do… and I’ve already told you more than I should have.”

“I know, and for that I’m grateful. The last thing I want is to get in the way of you and doing your job.” 

“Don’t think I’m not conflicted. Because I am.” She was. Even still as she looked into his eyes she knew they were on borrowed time but part of her didn’t care. “This time, let me call you, Killian. As soon as things are underway I promise I’ll call you.” 

“I’ll miss you tonight, darling. But do what you must,” he whispered against her lips before bending to give her a kiss that was far more intense than the last. His soft mouth, now hard on hers. She opened her mouth to grant him entrance. And too quickly it was over, because their reality was strong. He wasn’t supposed to be here and her team would be here any moment. 

“That’s one hell of a good bye.” Emma’s fingers went to her lips, the repercussions of their kiss vibrating through her. 

Killian smirked, the first light moment of the entire time they had been here. He opened his car door and began to climb inside as he said, “And you’re one hell of a woman, Emma.” 

Without another word he put the car in drive and rode away, taking any resolve Emma had left with him. 

 

David and Graham arrived a few moments later, the timing could not have been more perfect as they pulled into the driveway. She immediately began explaining to them the context of the visit. How she had found the drawing, showing them the ring, and where it had come from. Emma told them Gold had acted strangely even for him ever since the case had reopened. And explained her reasoning for not wanting to come to them immediately with the information until she had more. The fact that Robert Gold was her son’s grandfather, Neal’s dad. It was messy. It could get sloppy if she didn’t have her facts correct. 

Emma walked them through her snooping in the house, conveniently leaving out Killian’s presence in the whole thing. And showed them the picture she had found in Moira’s closet. The last piece of the puzzle would be having Killian and Liam identify a picture of Gold. The fact that he had been posing as their mother’s therapist further proof that there was malintent. 

David was disappointed in her, she could tell. But to a certain extent he understood. There was no part of Emma that wanted Gold to have been behind the murder but a lot of signs pointed toward him. 

“We’ll get the rest of the team out here first thing in the morning. To do a full sweep,” Graham looked over the picture frame. “If there’s anything else linked to Gold we’ll find it. I’ll call in Boston for back up. This is a big place, we’ll need more than just the three of us. And the light of day.” 

“Neal and Henry get back tomorrow from their fishing trip…” Emma thought out loud. The idea of them coming back from such a nice weekend together to something so awful and drastic made her stomach churn with anxiety. 

“We’re gonna have to bring Gold in for questioning, Em.” David’s voice softer now. 

“I know.” This was just so difficult. The irony of the fact that Emma had at first avoided becoming more involved with Killian because of how personal that would turn the investigation, was not lost on her. Because now the case was somehow managing to hurt even more people she loved. Not that she loved Killian. She didn’t. Not at all. 

“And if either Killian or Liam can ID Gold as someone they recognize then…. It’s pretty much a done deal,” David continued. At least he and Emma were on the same wavelength. He had taken the words out of her mouth before she could actually say them. 

 

It was late now. David, Emma, Graham and a few others had taken into account the newest developments. Yellow caution tape had been restored to block off the property. A search team was in place for the first light of the morning. Gold would be called in as soon as the search began. A warrant to search his shop and house would be ready by the morning as well. They had to be careful. Gold’s wife worked with them. If Belle caught wind of them gearing up to question her husband there was a chance she would tell Robert and he could have time to get away. So silence fell amongst the team in order to preserve the information until go time. 

David had told Emma to go home, rest and prepare for the next day. It would be brutal, he warned. As much as it was important to remain unbiased in an investigation, it was hard to do that when the ties of a small town ran so deep. There wasn’t a fiber of Emma that wanted Gold to have been the one who murdered Brennan and Moira Jones but more likely than not he was the one responsible. 

Emma forced her body into the car, so tired and ready for sleep as she looked at the clock to realize it was 12:30 in the morning. How had time gotten so far away from her? It was barely nightfall when she had arrived and now it was already the next day? The day where everything would change, hearts would be broken, and families would be destroyed yet again. This was difficult. And she didn’t want to be alone. 

She drove. Outside of the town line. In search of some sort of companionship. Emma didn’t know if Killian would be awake. It was the middle of the night. But she hoped that he was, and that he wouldn’t be angry with her from keeping her latest discoveries from him. She hoped he would understand that she had a job to do above all else and the personal developments of their relationship could only break so many rules. The less people who knew about tomorrow the better, but Emma still didn’t want to be without him when the morning came. 

 

The penthouse was quiet. Dim with nightfall. Maybe this was a bad idea. The poor guy was probably fast asleep in bed with his dog, who the fuck was she to walk in and disrupt even more of his life? But just as she was about to turn to climb back in the elevator, she heard the padding of bare feet across the marble floor. 

“Emma… I thought you said you were going to call, love.” In his hand was a mug of something, judging from the steam Emma suspected tea. “Not that I’m complaining.” He was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a gray t-shirt. The most she had ever seen him dressed at this hour in recent memory. His hair was disheveled from sleep in the most adorable way, sticking up in all directions and reminding her of earlier that day when she had awoken next to him. 

“I just felt like…” she could feed him a story, about some excuse that would give her reason to be here right now but there was none other than, “I didn’t want to be alone, Killian.” 

“Neither did I.” He raised his small mug in front of his face, “I’ve just made some tea. Chamomile. Care for some?” 

“I would actually, yeah.” She smiled. And then he did right back. Because despite everything else going on around them, the heaviness of what had transpired and what was to come, there was a solace in each other that made everything feel lighter. 

Emma and Killian sat on the couch, sipping their tea and talking. She had been jittery when she arrived, the adrenaline combined with the lack of sleep turning her body into a temple of anxiety and stress. Killian’s eyes became more clear the longer she was there, it was obvious he had been crying just a bit. No doubt the reason for his tea making in the first place. The sleeping trouble. The emotional trauma. But now he seemed better, like he was only focused on what was happening just then. 

After a while Emma yawned, and Killian offered her his bed for the night. As much as she should probably leave, go home and rest for the inevitable. She didn’t. She took his offer, and followed him up the stairs. Her hand in his. A hum of current flowing through her skin where he touched her. She wanted more, the yearn for him rarely ever truly ceasing, but at the same time the simple thought of sleep was so tempting. 

Emma had been in his room before. Their time together here had been intimate… passionate… rough. But now the room appeared different to her. The gray hues of the curtains and comforter and cushioned headboard were soft and calming. The high ceilings were grand and made the space feel huge. A low hum of classical music played in the background. Princess lay at the foot of the bed in a peaceful sleep. 

“Do you have a side of the bed you prefer?” Emma asked breaking the silence. This would be her first time sleeping here, even if it were for only a few hours. 

“No, whichever you want is fine with me.” He looked at her, they were feet from the bed, a bed they had been in before for different reasons. So why was she so nervous? 

“I’ll take the left.” Emma smiled. It was a bit forced. But not because she wasn’t happy to be here… and next to him. Because this would be their second time sleeping in the same bed in two nights. And that wasn’t really ever something she had done. 

“Emma, if you don’t feel comfortable, I can sleep in the other room, love.” 

“No,” she said almost too quickly. “I want you here. With me. Okay?” 

“Alright.” She didn’t realize they had still been holding hands until he lifted hers to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss to her wrist. Butterflies erupted in her body. But she fought them off and she shed her clothes and climbed into bed. She left on her underwear and tank top, since Killian wasn’t exactly nude. She didn’t want to assume anything. Even still her underwear left little to the imagination and as Killian settled in behind her she felt just how far his imagination had wandered. 

Emma wanted to feel him, to touch him, she really did. Pretend the sexual connection was the only thing between them but it wasn’t. And she lacked the emotional stamina to dive into it now. She was so tired that the second her body settled into the plush mattress the only thing she could imagine doing was sleeping. Though that didn’t keep her hand from wandering. Slowly stroking the top of his thigh, getting closer to the affected area. 

But she felt the grasp of a strong wrist on hers, the presence of the man behind her. “Emma, darling, it’s alright. Just sleep.” He removed her hand from his leg and wrapped it with his own. Enclosing his arms around her in a comforting embrace. Her whole body felt warm with his touch. Like she was wrapped in a cloud. Before she knew it she had drifted off, eyes closing, her last memory being the gentle press of kisses to her the bare skin of her shoulder. And she could have sworn she heard him whisper the faintest, “we have each other.” 

 

Emma couldn’t have been asleep for long. When her eyes opened the sun wasn’t even up yet. She looked at the clock on the nightstand. 3:30 am. Her nerves wouldn’t let her sleep again. As she laid there in the dark she realized the dog had gone and it was just she and Killian in the bed. His warm body still pressed to hers. This was complicated. 6000 layers of complicated. When they had been sitting on the couch sipping their tea before sleeping, he had asked her if he would know today who had killed his mother. She had answered honestly, yes, he would. There had been so little she could give him in the past few months that was certain, but of this she was sure. By the end of today he and Liam would know. And hopefully they could finally begin their healing process that had been delayed so long. 

Killian stirred in the bed behind her. A low groan coming from him as her body instinctively pressed closer to his. Emma didn’t know if he was awake until his lips were next to her ear and he quietly said, “having trouble sleeping, love?” 

“A little,” she said back. Not sure what her next move should be. The night had been so emotional, so difficult for him… and her. She didn’t want to press him. But that didn’t stop her from wanting him. Or the adrenaline in her body channeling itself into something more raw and animal-like at the sound of his morning voice in her ear. 

He didn’t say anything back though, instead moving the hair from her shoulder, exposing the skin to his lips, trailing them down her neck and shoulder. Setting a slow and tortuous pace. 

“Mmmm…” he moaned, leaving little bite marks at the surface. Emma’s entire body alight with need. Her energy transformed so suddenly from anxious to wanton. She squirmed beneath his touch as his hands made their way to her breasts from behind. Massaging over the fabric of her shirt, her nipples hardening from his movements. 

“Killian…” she managed to croak out. Her eyes falling shut and her head leaning back against his chest. “Are you sure….?” The weight of the day and what was about to happen with the case presenting a bit of an emotional roadblock. Though her body was completely betraying her thought process on that level. Because deep beneath her thighs was the pooling of heat and tingling of skin. Waiting for him to be where she needed him. 

His voice was in her ear again, the hairs of his beard scraping the space just beneath. “Emma, love, please don’t deprive me of the one thing that I want…” He bit her earlobe, knowing he had her hooked. The confidence in his voice so erotic. 

“What exactly do you want?” she barely got out, grinding her ass into his erection. The deepest, basest parts of her taking over. 

His hands moved from her pert breasts to the sides of her face. Turning her head toward him to meet her eyes. So blue. They were so so blue and stunning. Her breath caught just looking at them, even for the one thousandth time. He still affected her. 

“I want to make love to you,” he said. Breath heavy. Eyes hooded. Brows dark and prominent. But beyond all of that he was serious. The choice of words wasn’t a mistake. Nor were they a lie. 

He waited for her to say something back. To acknowledge the gravity of the statement in its deliberateness. Her hands resting on his t-shirted chest. His thumb stroking the vein in her neck. 

It didn’t frighten her like she thought it would. Surprised her, definitely. So much so that she didn’t know what exactly to say. Instead she leaned into him, pressing herself along the lines of his lean body. Shivering with ache. And kissing him until she couldn’t breath and had to pull her lips away just barely to catch herself. 

“I would never stop you,” she urged, against him. Kissing him again once she said it. Hoping he understood what she couldn’t actually say. She took it as he did when his arms pulled her into him, deepening the kiss. His one hand cradling her head, his other moving her leg to hitch around his waist. Her center meeting his, their clothes between their most intimate parts but the heat was still there. 

She tugged on the collar of his shirt. Needing to feel his skin. “Off. Now,” she commanded desperately. And he obeyed. Stripping bare of his clothes. All the while keeping some part of him on top of her. Emma removed hers as well, wanting to be as close to him as possible. Her lips finding there way to trace from his mouth to his sharp jaw to his neck to his throat and his chest. The thick, dark hair tickling her chin as she moved. She heard a low moan escape his throat, her hands doing their own explorations of him. 

After a few moments he grabbed hold of her chin, pulling her face up to meet his yet again. He wasted no time before kissing her, his tongue invading her mouth in the most slow and careful of movements. Her head craned back to allow him deeper. Hands roving over her flushed skin.

Slowly he rolled on top of her, his weight causing their hips to meet. Emma gasped, giving way to some of the friction she needed. She arched her back, in hopes of feeling even just the tip of his length. She could already tell her center was impossibly wet for him. He knew as well. As one of his hands made its way to her slick folds, teasing the bundle of nerves ever so softly. 

“How is it that you’re always so ready for me?” he asked and Emma felt him begin to line his cock up at her entrance. His warm tongue met hers. Claiming her mouth. 

“I-I,” she groaned as his lips pulled from hers. The confession so close but instead she settled for, “I want you.” 

Whether he knew what she was going to say or not he didn’t question her. He kissed the insides of her legs before he eased his large member inside of her. Allowing her to adjust to its size this time. Emma felt full to the brim as he bottomed out. Killian’s lips fell to her neck and chin, breasts, slowly, wet, delicate. Such a contrast from before. He moved his hips in time with hers, an unhurried pace. His forearms holding his chest above her. 

Emma spread her legs wider, welcoming his hips, urging him to grind with her. Thrusting, as the heat inside her veins turned electric and she was gasping for breath. She could see sweat begin to form in the darkness of his hair. She tugged on it, the shaggy ends, to pull his face closer to hers. 

“You’re so tight, darling, every time,” he bit out. “You feel amazing. So gorgeous. Not a single part of you I don’t want to devour.” 

Her arms went from his hair, lower and lower, to his ass. That she had grown to love grabbing on to while in the throes of passion. And judging from the way he picked up his pace when he felt her hands there, he loved it too. 

“I can’t make it much longer, love,” he whispered. She knew he couldn’t. The way his cock throbbed against her walls she knew he was about to spill. And so was she. Immersed in the bliss of his every move. Her toes curling into the sheets, holding tight to him, fingernails in his skin, warmth in her center. Her peak was building, nerves on edge. 

“Come. With me, Killian,” she spoke. She rarely ever did when they engaged in this. But the way his cock drove her to her climax she wanted them to fall together. 

“As you wish, my sweet.” His lips quickly caught hers. Tugging her to a passionate kiss as they both finished in tandem. His seed coating her thighs and the inside of her thighs. 

Their breath heavy, the only sound in the room, Emma held his head to her chest as he suckled her bare chest in the aftershock of her orgasm. Slowly they both calmed themselves. When he finally lifted his dark head, and pulled her to his chest, she looked up at his angular face. She knew with certainty a terrifying truth. 

Emma was falling in love with Killian. And things were about to become far more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rate, comment, say hi! Thanks for reading :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANOTHA ONE. Updating 2 times in 1 week since I've been slacking lately. Thank you to everyone, once again, for the kind comments. I hope you enjoy where the story goes. Feel free to leave more along the way! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT
> 
> Rated: M, for hints of gruesome violence
> 
> Word Count: ~8600

Killian’s POV 

He was falling in love with her. Emma. His Emma. Though she was by no means a possession of his, Killian’s mind still laid claim to her in some way. After all, she plagued most every thought in his brain. She haunted every dream. And now, she was laying in his arms, in his bed, in his hotel, the smell of cinnamon and sunshine on her bare skin. It was nearing dawn now. Sunday. When she had shown up at his hotel room late last night he was a bit surprised. After leaving her at his childhood home, the rubble it had become over twenty years, he had expected not to hear from her. The ball was in her court, she had promised to call. He understood the situation, and figured she wouldn’t contact him for a day or so. But then she came and all of the negative emotions that being in that house had brought back, fell away when he looked at Emma. True enough that they had seen each other damn near every night for weeks. Taking out their physical desires on one another. Though it had become more than just physical as time had gone on. 

Now it was nearing the time Emma would soon leave him. He wished she could stay, and spend the morning the way he had wanted the previous one at her house to go had her parents not shown up. Slow. Lazy. Tangled together. Perhaps have a cup of coffee outside. Allow the light of day to make an appearance at one of their trysts. But there was also something else… an elephant in the room so to speak. The lingering presence of Emma promising today would be the day Killian knew who killed his parents. She had work to do once she left his embrace this morning, and that was something he never wanted to prevent her from doing. 

All those times he had spent with Grace, his most recent and failed relationship, fighting over his working hours. The extraneous travel. She never wanted his career, he did. So the arguments never ceased. Work was not a topic they would see eye to eye. Killian wouldn’t make that mistake again. Not with Emma. The closest they had come to that was when he had to go to his speaking engagement in New York. He didn’t like it, they weren’t together… they hadn’t talked about it. However, he still longed for her and it had reminded him of his relationship with Grace. Choosing work over her. Though he wasn’t sure what was going on between he and Emma, he knew it was more than they had set out to make it. Whether either one of their egos wanted to admit it… well the jury was still out on that. 

“Killian?” she asked in the moments of silence following what he would consider love making. It was a gamble using those words with her, but she didn’t pull away when he did. In fact quite the opposite had happened. They had shared an exchange of passion and understanding. Roughness and delicacy. Lust and adoration. The conflicting feelings in both of them shining through the more time they spent in bed. 

“Yes, my darling?” he was stroking the sides of her face, slowly eliciting a subtle blush on her creamy skin. He tried to keep his motions as restricted as possible, knowing they hardly had time for another round. Exciting himself just to have her leave would not do him any favors. 

“I have to go soon,” she whispered in the dark. Her eyes locked with his as she toyed with the tufts of black hair on his chest. He did love she when she played with him so absentmindedly. As if it were as natural to her as blinking. 

“I know,” he paused his strokes, resting his hand underneath her chin. He tugged her face closer to his. She was so beautiful. Everything from her jade eyes to her pouty lips to her dainty nose. Stunning. “I wish you didn’t. But I understand.”

“It doesn’t mean I wouldn’t stay if I could,” she breathed. The hairs on the back of his neck standing with arousal at her tone. The promise of more in her voice. 

“Do what you must, love.” He kissed the temple of her forehead. Killian didn’t quite understand how some moments he could want to command her, make her scream his name in that gorgeous tone, make her nails claw at his skin with desire. But then times, like now, he wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms just to feel her in the simplest of ways. “Emma whatever happens today, with the case, I just need you to know how grateful I am for all of your help.”

“It’s my job.” 

“You’ve gone beyond the responsibilities of your job. This whole experience has been… difficult. But you’ve made it considerably more pleasant. For that I can’t thank you enough.”

“Don’t completely discredit yourself…” she bit her lip, probably minding her words that were coming next. “You and I, we understand each other.” 

“Aye, we do.” The remainder of the unspoken conversation lingered heavily in the air. Killian felt like he could say so much more to her but he didn’t want to scare her (or himself). He toyed with her hair, letting the silky blond strands fall through his fingers. 

“Thank you for tonight, Killian. And for every night really.” 

“The pleasure was all mine, darling.” It was almost nauseating, the way they were speaking to each other right now. It was more along the lines of the way newlyweds spoke to one another. 

With how close their faces were he could hardly resist the urge to kiss her once more before she left. So he tugged her mouth to his, intending to leave her with a gentle press of his lips. But the second their mouths met, the kiss quickly turned from demure to…. passionate. Filthy, even. His mouth hot on hers. His hands moving to her hips to roll her on top of him. She liked that, being on top, he had learned. And while he liked being the dominant one as well, he was inclined to switch positions with her. Whatever she wanted. 

“Killian,” she cooed against lips between kisses. He loved the sound of his name when she said it. Her hands bracing herself on his shoulders, keeping her held above him. He nipped at her lips, not wanting to fully detach from hers, until she unhinged her jaw and granted his tongue entrance. Chasing the breath down her throat as she gave back the kiss with equal fervor. She was intoxicating. 

“Bloody hell, Emma,” he moaned as his lips moved to her jaw, down the column of her throat, needing to taste her skin again. The sweet, softness that was her and her alone. He sucked possessively on her pulse point, hoping he wouldn’t leave too large a mark but also wanting it to be there. Even if he was the only one who knew it was. She had done the same to him dozens of times, it was his turn now. His hands found their way to her ass, the thick curves of her body fitting perfectly in his hands. 

It certainly did not help the situation that they were both still entirely nude from their earlier round, Emma straddling him, her bare hips meeting his as they ground together to relieve some of the friction. His hands moved from her hips, up her body, cherishing every inch of skin along the way, before reaching the curtain of blonde hair falling around their faces. He ran his fingers through the unruly mane of hair and she keened, unintelligible words that sounded faintly of his name. 

“Killian…. We can’t…. Not again….” Emma croaked out pulling her mouth from his. Immediately he wanted them back on him but he remained still, not wanting to upset her. 

“I’m sorry.” As she sat back on her heels, he tucked away a stray lock of hair. “I got carried away.” 

“We both did.” The way she said it had an undertone of realization to it. Like she was thinking the same thing he was. How in the world was it possible that this much desire existed between them that a simple kiss could so easily turn into… well, that. “You started it though.” 

“Excuse me?” The air was lighter now, both of them had been guilty of engaging with each other. The mere thought of one being more responsible for it was amusing to say the least. “I don’t recall hearing a complaint from you, love.” 

She stood from the bed, shooting him a naughty grin. Her naked form bare to him in the dim room. God she was perfect. Her breasts alert, nipples hardened, the curve of her waist, the toned legs. Emma caught him staring, though it was less embarrassing when she did so now that they had shared so many intimate encounters. 

“That’s because you were too busy sucking a gaping bruise onto my neck!” She exclaimed looking in the mirror across from where the bed was. Realization hitting her that this wouldn’t be an easy cover up. “Christ, Killian how do you expect me to hide this?”

“Perhaps a scarf would suffice?” he joked. He could tell she wasn’t really angry with him for doing it. The charming flush of her skin an indicator that if anything she was flattered by the mark. 

“It’s almost fucking June.” She turned back to him. The mark at the base of her neck, bordering with her collarbone was larger than he had planned and he felt bad for that, he really did. But not bad enough to regret doing it. 

“If you wear a shirt with a collar it will be covered.” He too stood from the bed, sauntering over to where she was in front of the full length mirror. Coming up behind her to see the two of them in the reflection. Eyes meeting hers in the mirror as his arms wrapped around her. “Just as I had to do when you left one one me.” 

And with that he kissed her cheek, smacked her bare ass, and walked toward the bathroom to take a shower. A cold one. For if he didn’t there was very little preventing him from taking her right up against the hard surface of that mirror and this morning the time for that was simply not a luxury they were afforded. 

 

When Killian emerged from the bathroom, his room was empty. The only evidence that Emma had been there was the imprint of her body on the mattress. It was probably best he hadn’t made another attempt to kiss her goodbye, the woman tempting him so much with any move she made. It was utterly confusing and something he had never experienced before. Not even with Grace, who was another ghost of his. But Emma, she was just so different. He had opened up to her more quickly and willingly than with anyone. The only other person on this planet who knew just as much was his brother Liam. 

Emma was a comfort to him when he needed it, a siren in bed, and incomparably intuitive in her work. As much as he tried to block out the first investigation, it was hard not to let thoughts of it slip into his brain. The most difficult time in his life all capped off by the fact that he and Liam were prime suspects for most of it. He sat through hours of rigorous and unforgiving questions. The sheriff at the time had never encountered such a case and all eyes were on him to execute. It was one of the most gruesome murders in the history of the Northeastern United States, it was everywhere. 

News stations occupied every corner of town, not a sentence was safe from being published. Killian felt he really and truly couldn’t trust anyone, it was hard to even look at Liam the same. The tragedy causing such a rift in their relationship, especially when Killian was liberated as a suspect. His saving moment finally coming when a gas station security camera caught him there during the time of the murder. After the horror of it all he chose to live in London with the rest of their family. It was tough. He was never more alone. That was what made becoming a workaholic such a clear choice for him. He had no one else. 

Killian had always been a loner. He kept few friends in school, a small circle of those he saw regularly or spent time with on the weekends. Never was much into the girls, he had obviously indulged in a few hookups. He was human, after all. Nothing serious though and nothing permanent ever. His home life was such a wreck that the last thing he wanted was for a girl to show up to go to the prom and have to listen to his parents spit daggers at each other. It kept him private. 

The night his parents were murdered was uncharacteristically cool for September. The tension that was constantly building in his house between his parents was inescapable. The Jones’ could have lived in a 50,000 square foot house and it wouldn’t have been enough to drown out the fighting. The volatility that coated the air. Brennan and Moira agreed on less the longer they were married, and at 16 years old Killian had had just about enough. 

Laying in his bed he heard the fighting commence from down the hallway. Though his parents’ room was in a different wing than his, he heard clearly. 

“It’s not my fault you spend half your life in that office and the other half too inebriated to function!” He heard his mother shout. 

“Perhaps if I had a wife who looked at me every once in awhile I wouldn’t feel the need to that!” 

“You can’t blame this on me… these are your choices, your mistakes, Brennan!” 

“Oh good, mistakes. Let’s talk about some of yours shall we? While we’re laying everything out there?” 

This was how it usually went, the house would be quiet for a few hours after Killian’s father returned from work, then he and Moira would somehow find themselves alone in a room. One catalyst would set it off and boom. Fighting for hours. 

The more his father drank the worse it became. Years had gone by since that pattern began and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. At the very least Killian had a car of his own now and could take a drive so he wouldn’t be around the toxicity anymore. He often wondered why they even stayed married and hoped that one day if, God forbid, he ever got married that he and his future wife would never become what his parents had. 

That was the only time Killian ever thought of marriage at all, when he was hoping that it wouldn’t be anything like his parents. Most kids he knew wanted relationships like the ones set before them. Not him. He wanted no part of it. 

Things would be even harder in a year when Liam would be away at school. At the very least right now he had someone who understood. But his brother had plans to attend college on the other side of the country. Liam hadn’t applied to a single school in-state. 

Running his fingers through his hair, Killian settled his hands over his eyes in an attempt to block out the shards of glass that penetrated his life. Before he knew what he was doing he left the house, climbed into his car and drove off into the night. Attempting to put as much distance between he and his parents as he could. Little did he know, that would be the last time. 

Later that night when he returned from his drive, Killian noted that all of the house lights were still on but the place was uncharacteristically silent. The fighting had ceased, arguments and low blows no longer reverberating off the walls. It was odd. 

“Mum?” he called out to more silence. “Dad?” 

Nothing. 

Liam still wasn’t home, his car not in its space in the driveway. Had Killian’s parents left they most likely would not have done it together. One would have gone and the other stayed, as per usual, but no one was here. Or as he would soon find, no one was answering. 

Killian made it to the top of the steps without hearing so much else as a pin drop in the house, heading to his room to sleep since there was finally some peace. But it was the light on in his parents room that caught his eye. The cracked open door revealing something dark and solid on the floor. A weird feeling began building in Killian’s stomach as he realized something definitely was not right. 

His gut wrenched as he neared the room to enter and saw that the dark figure on the floor was his mother, covered in a pool of what he could only assume was her own blood. Her usually serene, kind face twisted into a snarl that came from dying in pain. Killian noticed the blood coated her entire body. From her nightgown to the bared skin of her ankles she was covered. Killian choked back whatever was trying to come up. Tears. Vomit. He didn’t know. And then he saw his father, not far from his mother, sprawled in a similar way. He was in shock. 

Killian’s hands shook. His insides curled in on themselves. He wanted nothing more than to collapse on the floor next to them, somehow to be with them but he couldn’t get himself to move. It was as if his feet were firmly planted in that spot and the rest of his body was following suit. Slowly, he was able to back himself out of the room. His eyes still locked on the limp forms of his dead parents on their bedroom floor. He wanted to look away and unsee all of it but he couldn’t. A small part of him felt that maybe if he stared long enough that the blood would fade into the floor and his parents would rise to their feet because it was all a hallucination. A horrific trick of the mind. 

But it wasn’t. So when Killian’s shock wore off a few moments later when he was standing in the hallway outside of his parents room, he collapsed. His knees hit the hardwood floors with a crash but no pain physical pain could hurt him now. Head falling down to rest where his knees were he sobbed into the floor. Killian’s heart beat at an unparalleled speed as he tried to make sense of all of this. Alone. 

Now, twenty years later, he sat on the balcony of his hotel room. He sipped coffee and nibbled on some of the omelette he had ordered from room service but his stomach was too upset to really consume anything. Emma had told him he would receive a call today to go into the station but that was about all. She couldn’t give him too much but she had wanted to. 

The anticipation made everything worse. Princess sat by his feet on the chaise lounge chair overlooking the view. The morning was bright and sunny, perhaps it was an omen for what the rest of his life would be after the investigation was done. For so long it had loomed over his head, and he had never truly been able to cope with his parents’ death because it was so open ended. It was something you couldn’t justify, quantify or reason with because the whole thing was so gruesome and heartless. Whomever had killed his parents, even though Killian hadn’t had the best relationship with them, he wanted justice to be served on their behalf. 

He toyed with the one belonging he had from his mother. The silver pocket watch with her engravement and picture. She had given it to him on his sixteenth birthday. It had once been a wedding gift between Brennan and Moira, but as time passed and their marriage crumbled the relic meant little to Killian’s father. 

“Keep this with you and give it to someone special someday,” his mother had said when she handed him the wrapped parcel all those years ago. Nowadays, there wasn’t much use for pocket watches, with cell phones and what not, nevertheless Killian had considered it an honor to have. There was a time where only the highest of men carried them and his mother felt him worthy of its presence. 

“Thanks mum,” he said as he took it carefully, feeling the long silver chain in his hands as he was now. 

But all of this time had passed, Killian now being nearly 37 years old, and nowhere near a child of his own nor a wife to pass the watch onto. There was a time when he thought of giving it to Grace. Perhaps having the metal resurfaced and a new engraving etched inside. However, now that his life had taken the path it did and Grace was no longer in it he was a bit glad he had kept the watch just the way it was. 

Killian’s phone rang, startling both the dog and him, the caller ID said it was Liam which was a relief and a disappointment. Part of him wanted it to be someone else, but he knew that call wouldn’t be coming for a bit. 

“Little brother!” Liam yelled on the other end. 

“Younger brother,” Killian grumbled. “Good morning, Liam.” 

“Where have you been lately, I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” 

“Work… a lot of work mostly.” It sounded like a lie and Killian knew it. 

“Work, huh?” Liam wasn’t buying it. He rarely ever accepted Killian’s covers. “Well, is your ‘work’ at your hotel right now?” 

“No.” There wasn’t a use in arguing. Liam knew exactly what had been keeping his brother so preoccupied the past few weeks. And it wasn’t his job. 

“Good. Would you like to go for breakfast?” 

“Sure, Liam.” 

“Alright well I’m in the parking lot out front so I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were trying to catch me in something...” 

“I would never!” Liam yelled before hanging up the phone. It seemed as good of an opportunity as any to get out of his hotel. The sheer space of the penthouse was excessive and he knew it. That didn’t stop him from renting it though. The whole thing being so temporary, his time in Storybrooke. Though, he would never admit it aloud, he could begin to picture himself staying here for a bit longer. 

 

Killian and Liam drove to Granny’s diner for breakfast. It was nice, getting to see his brother. For so many years while Killian was in London he and Liam were restricted to phone conversations. Which was hard on Killian, as someone who kept mostly to himself, his brother had been his best friend. Getting to go for a simple breakfast together on a Sunday morning made what remained of their family seem less broken. 

Over their meal, Killian kept mostly quiet, not wanting to divulge information that would lead Liam to know the nature of his and Emma’s… relationship? That wasn’t what it was, at least not right now, but it was something. Still, Liam would soon find out all that Killian had known and more whenever they get called to the station. He wanted to text Emma, or call her, just to check in with how things were going. The anticipation was killing him and he knew the simple sound of her voice would ease a bit of his anxiety. 

Liam talked for a long time about his family. The time on the east coast had proven to be more beneficial for he and Laura than he had originally planned. The lush forests, the food, the pace, everything was better for them. They could have a backyard and a quieter life. 

“We’ve been talking about staying here, even after the case is over. If it ever ends,” Liam stated as he ate the remaining bites of his breakfast. 

“Yeah?” Killian was happy for his brother, if nothing else good came out of this investigation, perhaps it could be that Liam and his family found a place to call home. “How serious has this conversation been?”

“Well, pretty serious. Laura wants another baby. It’s hard enough just having one in our tiny house out west. Here, we could have a yard they could play in. It’s just, it’s a place we see ourselves.” 

“You talk of this second child like it’s already here,” Killian noted. But when he saw the growing smile on his brother’s face he realized this wasn’t a hypothetical situation. 

“It kind of already is. Laura’s 3 months pregnant, Killian.” 

He couldn’t contain his smile in return. Though Liam had been nervous about the thought of a second child the last time they had spoken on the matter, he was clearly very comfortable with it now. 

“That’s incredible, Liam. Congratulations!” He patted his brother on the back. The last time Laura had been pregnant, Killian had been in London so the news was told to him over the phone. But this… this was so much better. “I can’t believe another little Jones will be wreaking havoc on this world so soon.” 

“I consider it my responsibility. Since my brother is taking his good old time settling down.” Liam’s eyebrow went up as he sipped his coffee. He always rousted Killian about the family thing. And the marriage thing. 

“Sorry to be the one to tell you but I don’t see that happening any time soon. It’s not for me.” This had been Killian’s answer to his brother for years, even when he was with Grace he deflected the conversation. But for the first time, really ever, it felt like a lie. 

“You’ve got it bad.” Liam chuckled. Obviously amused by Killian’s attempt to suppress the conversation. 

“I haven’t a clue what you’re referring to.” Killian tried to appear stone faced but it was hard. Especially when he wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“I won’t bug you about it, because I know you’re a private fellow,” Liam was leveling with him, an earnest attempt to have a deeper conversation. “You obviously like her, you can’t talk me out of that.” Liam’s voice got lower, so no one else in the crowded diner could hear, “But is Emma someone you can see yourself with?” 

“It’s complicated,” Killian replied, too quickly. 

“It always is with you, Killian.” Liam sounded amused but also exasperated. Probably sick of the vague answers Killian always gave him. He wanted to have his friendship with his brother, and be free with information as Liam was with him but it was hard. Thirty six years as a closed book it can be difficult to open back up again. 

“Yes. She is,” Killian said with conviction. Answering his brother’s earlier question with certainty much to Liam’s surprise. And he was surprised, his face lit with shock. 

“Have you discussed what happens when the investigation is over?” 

“No, that isn’t something that’s come up.” 

“Perhaps you should try,” Liam’s eyes were serious. Though he was usually far lighter than Killian’s demeanor ever was, this was a moment where his brother was sincere in his statements. “If she’s important to you, don’t let her slip away.”

“I don’t know that she shares the same feelings that I do.” 

“Don’t worry. I talked to her best friend about it. That brunette, Ruby, she works on the case as well. That night at The Rabbit Hole when you and Emma ran off together doing lord knows what.” 

“Oh for Christs sake Liam, you didn’t.” Killian felt his face turn red. The thought of Liam and Ruby discussing them was too embarrassing for him to even imagine. 

“I did. Don’t you want to know what she said?”

“Not even a little bit.” 

“Well,” Liam continued, ignoring Killian’s response. “She said she had never seen Emma, in all their years knowing each other, this way with anyone.” 

Killian’s ears perked at the thought, “Never?” 

“Never. I’ve seen the way she looks at you, Killian. The way you are around one another. There isn’t a doubt in my mind she feels the same.” 

Killian didn’t say anything back, not knowing exactly what to say. There wasn’t a doubt that Emma was attracted to him. Clearly what they had between them was electric. That couldn’t be denied. It was the promise of more that he worried about. Her life on her own, in her town, with her son and her parents and her ex. Her life was full enough without him. Where could he possibly fit? 

“It’s just whether or not you two stubborn asses are willing to admit it to each other, that’s still up for debate.” Liam finished with a wink. Understanding the situation far too well. Killian scratched behind his ear, hoping now that he had given Liam a glimpse into his thoughts he would cease this conversation. And just as he was thinking that, his phone screen lit up in clear view on the table. It was a call from Emma. 

“Oh that’s perfect,” Liam joked. It was ironic, certainly, the nature of the conversation versus Emma’s time she chose to call. Killian rolled his eyes at his brother, knowing full well that this phone call would in no way be romantic. It meant it was time for them to come into the station. But Liam didn’t know that, so Killian did his best to remain calm. Still though, a knot formed in Killian’s stomach as he picked up the phone. 

“Hello?” Carefully avoiding any of his usual endearments he used with Emma. Hoping she wouldn’t take that the wrong way. 

“Hi,” she said, her tone professional as well, “can you and Liam come into the station. We have some questions we want to ask the two of you.” 

“Sure.” He looked at his brother who was waiting to overhear something flirty. But it would never come. “Should we head over now? I’m with him, out at Granny’s.” 

“As soon as you can get here would be good.” 

“Alright. We’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll see you soon, Killian,” she said, and quieter than she had spoken for the rest of the brief conversation. “Everything will be okay. Do you trust me?” 

“Of course, darling. Always.” He couldn’t help himself, as he had suspected just hearing her voice eased some of the nerves he felt for the situation. He could almost hear her smiling on the other end of the line as he used the word he exclusively only called her nowadays. 

“Good.” 

After he hung up, Killian looked across the table at his brother. He had been avoiding eye contact with Liam for most of that conversation. 

“It’s truly incredible. I watched you turn from man to marshmallow in about thirty seconds.” Liam joked. Though he quickly retreated his humored nature when he picked up on Killian’s very serious face. “I take it that wasn’t a pleasure call.” 

“No, it was not. We have to go into the station. The investigation team would like to talk to us.” 

“Now? On a Sunday?”

“I think it’s pretty big, Liam. Otherwise they wouldn’t have asked.” It was weird, knowing this was coming but still not knowing exactly what would happen by the end of the day. Emma clearly had all of her information in line. But if she said everything would be okay he believed her. He had to believe she would try to her best to make this as painless as possible. She had given him no reason, thus far, to believe otherwise. 

 

Emma’s POV

 

After leaving Killian’s hotel, she needed 3 cups of coffee before she felt up to continuing her job. In reality all she wanted to do was stay naked with him in his bed this morning, but she had a job to do. And the details of their latest night together were weighing heavily on her heart. Could she really feel this way after only a few months of having Killian Jones around? But there was something so undeniable about the way it was so easy to talk to him, the way she had so willingly given herself over to the pleasures he wanted to bring her, the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. It was unlike any connection she had ever had with anybody. It was the closest thing she could possible feel to lo-.... Really liking someone. 

There was a job at hand, and Emma knew if her team didn’t act quickly and efficiently they would miss their window. The warrant to search Gold’s home was in place, she met her father and Graham, and other members of the Boston team at the Jones’ house. They had already begun scouring the grounds for any further evidence of Robert and Moira’s affair. Not an inch was missed. And a few things came up. Specifically an old love letter that must have been missed by whomever was sending them clues. A task for another day. One arrest at a time. 

In its entirety it was explicit. A letter from Robert to Moira. The timeline seemed to be after Liam was born, but before Killian. At the very least the was a level of confliction. The desire to continue on in their affair tainted by the fact that she now had a child. Nevertheless she carried on with it. He pleaded with her to leave Brennan, to run away. They could take Liam and start over somewhere. At the time Neal wasn’t born yet but Gold was still married as well. 

“She wouldn’t do it, for whatever reason she wouldn’t leave him,” Emma murmured quietly to herself as she read through the contents of the letter in its entirety. The desperation between the two of them was evident. Definitely enough for him to want to kill for her, and then kill if he couldn’t have her. It broke Emma’s heart to know that Moira Jones had lived such a quiet life of torn misery. 

“You never really know what’s going on behind closed doors.” David was near her now. He had already read the letter and given his thoughts. The same as Emma’s. It was urgent enough to show their affair turned more volatile. But it didn’t feel like a victory to either of them in anyway, the damage of it all was still done. 

“It doesn’t matter whether we find Gold guilty or not, families are still going to be broken beyond repair.” The words Emma spoke more true now than ever, as Neal and Henry would soon return home. Now not only the Jones’ but her own family would become part of the wreckage as well. 

“Desperation knows no bounds, Emma. People are capable of anything if they feel their back is up against the wall.” 

“I know.” Emma looked around at the rest of the investigation team, wrapping up their search. It was time to go apprehend Gold. Time to bring him in for questioning, and if Killian could identify him as the man who posed as their mother’s doctor they could arrest him. 

“Life is really short, too short to live the way these people wound up living.” David was serious in his words, the way he spoke. “I may not have been very friendly to Killian yesterday morning, but it doesn’t mean I would in any way resent you for your choices…” 

“Dad, it’s okay…” 

“No, it’s not. You can date whomever you choose to be with. It’s not my right to push that on you.” He gulped, appearing the slightest embarrassed for his treatment of the situation Saturday morning at her house. “Clearly it hasn’t impacted your place on the investigation team, we’ve made it further in 3 months with the work you’ve done than my father did in one year.” 

She smiled at the compliment. It was nice to hear because she had been so torn about the entirety of the developing… thing between she and Killian. “Thanks, dad.” 

“If he’s somehow made it past all of the hurdles you put up he must be a relatively... good guy.”

“I know. He is.” And she did. 

“Your secrets keep you sick.” He pulled her into a side hug, watching everyone pack up and ready themselves for phase 2. “Don’t feel like you have to keep him a secret from your mother and I. Okay?” 

“I promise. I won’t.”

And with that, they piled into their respective vehicles, driving off to Gold’s house. A sprawling mansion in its own right. He had a lot of property, and his business was one of the oldest on Main Street. It was nowhere near the size of the Jones’ but still, sizeable. 

Only Emma, Graham, and David went to the door. There was a small van of other investigators ready to go in for a search, warrant prepared. They were met with an uncooperative Gold and a confused Belle. Emma felt bad, blindsiding someone she worked with every day. More collateral damage in this mess. The team searched through their belongings, and Emma didn’t know what more they could find that would solidify Robert’s guilt. 

While everyone else searched, Emma and Ruby milled through the wide hallways and high ceilinged rooms of the house. The entire thing had been restored by Gold and Belle after they were married. It was stunning. All of the old woodwork, the jewel toned walls, the original wainscoting. It was a home. Passing through the rooms Emma caught sight of Belle sitting on one of the couches in the living room. The deep green walls making it feel darker than it was outside. Belle was still in her pajamas, because it was a Sunday morning. And Emma felt a deep pang in her heart. 

“Belle?” she said as she and her best friend entered the room. Emma padded across the oriental rug that covered most of the floor. Paintings adorned every wall, fresh flowers on the coffee table. This home had been carefully created, and now it would never be the same for Belle again. The brunette looked up at her, blue eyes hiding the pain of what she was probably experiencing. “I know this is bad.” 

“This is awful,” Belle’s head fell into her hands as Emma and Ruby seated themselves on the couch across from her. The brocaded green a perfect match for the walls. 

“It all happened very quickly, I swear we weren’t conspiring this whole time,” Emma offered. Belle didn’t even look up at the two. 

“It’s just… it’s a lot to take in.” 

“Did you ever suspect… were there ever any signs?” Ruby asked carefully, any incorrect word could set Belle off. The situation was definitely delicate enough. 

“That my husband was a murderer? No, that wasn’t something I thought about when we were saying I do.” 

“I need to level with you,” Emma leaned her elbows onto her knees where she was seated, an attempt to come into Belle’s eyeview since she was staring at the intricately patterned carpet in disgust. “A murder weapon was never found.” 

“Excuse me?” Belle finally looked up at Emma. Their eyes meeting only to find that the brunette was severely appalled by the statement. Tears streaking her face. “I have worked on this case just as long as you, I am well aware there is no murder weapon.” 

“Is there any place your husband would have hidden it?”

Belle leaned back on the couch. Her posture straightening, an odd look on her face that Emma couldn’t place the emotion for. She looked for anything in Belle’s face, a twitch of the lip, a squint of the eye. Something. 

“If it isn’t here it could be in his shop.” 

A wave of understanding fell between the two. Belle stood from the couch, leaving the room to supervise the ransack of her home. Ruby looked over at Emma like they had just gotten nothing out of that conversation, oblivious to all that Emma was feeling about the encounter. She had a sixth sense about this sort of thing, about when there was more beneath the surface. And as Belle walked away Emma quietly realized she had just been given more than she needed. 

 

The search continued into the late morning and early afternoon. All hands on deck to find anything further but more importantly, the murder weapon. Graham had gone back with a few others to the station to begin the questioning. Emma had carefully measured every inch of Belle’s face as she gave her the answer. That woman knew her husband hid something, somewhere, and it still existed. Emma would deal with that later. Right now the task at hand was to find the knife. Or at least it was thought to be a knife. The forensics department in Boston had thought it perhaps could have been a jagged piece of glass or metal, due to the nature of the cuts. The edges weren’t smooth or careful, the were uneven. 

When nothing was found at the house they decided to check the shop. Emma was on borrowed time. Gold was being held at the station, she needed to get there to question him, she needed to call Killian, but she was like a dog with a bone she had to run with this. She needed to find the knife. 

The shop was closed, obviously, but the bell still rang as Emma opened the door. The space feeling dusty and dated. The only times in recent memory she had been here were to pick up her son. Her son. They would be back today. This evening. And Emma hadn’t had the balls to call and fill in Neal on all he had missed this weekend. The wood floor and shelves similar to Gold’s house she had just been in. Immediately her team began searching, and searching, and searching. Nothing. 

Emma walked off on her own, stealing off to a secluded room of the shop with all of the overflow antiques. It was dim, there was only one window but it was covered by drapes so she walked over to move the curtain to let in the light. But as she was about 3 steps away there was a dip in the floor. A slight creek that would have gone unnoticed by her had her senses not been heightened right now. She stepped on it again and the same sound hit her ears. The same subtle dip. 

She rolled the rug up that was covering that section of the floor to reveal the old wooden floorboards that hadn’t been tended to in a long time. Emma found the one that had made the sound and peeled it from its place, revealing a compartment roughly a foot deep beneath the floor that contained only one thing. 

A long silver dagger, with jagged edges, still hints of it stained with blood but otherwise perfect. Laying carefully tucked where no one would have thought to look. Its handle matched the silver blade but there was a central piece made of pearl that reminded Emma of the very ring that had belonged to Moira Jones. Like the ring could have fit right over the handle as an adornment and the two would have been a perfect match. 

 

So now the final piece of the puzzle needed to come into place, they had the weapon, they had the motive, they had evidence beyond evidence. But the final stage would have to be a test for the remnants of blood on the knife as well as Killian and Liam identifying Gold as the man who had posed as their mother’s therapist. The knife was carefully taken with the remainder of the Boston team back to where they could do a thorough forensic analysis. 

In the meantime, the Jones’ had arrived at the station. Killian immediately eyeing the collared shirt Emma wore to cover the mark he had left on her neck just that morning. She blushed thinking of it, his lips on her skin. And he noticed, giving her a sheepish smile. Which was unlike him, normally she would have expected a wink and a lecherous grin but today was different. It was hard, for him, it would continue to be hard. Emma found it torturous to sit across a table from him, to have to watch him see the man who had killed his parents, and not be able to do anything to comfort him. It was unlike her, feeling a need to soften the blow for someone. She was tough but he was an exception and she knew it. 

“We’re going to show you a line up of pictures. And all you have to say is if you recognize them or not,” David explained what the Jones’ would have to do. Emma knew Killian’s memory had been jogged recently, with the night before and the picture they had found in his mother’s closet. Liam would be the real test, at least in her mind, he would have been older than Killian at the time. He would have had a clearer picture. 

One by one the pictures were shown, and then in a group. As each came up the two would answer yes or no. It was an array of local men, men who had been photographed in police custody. For the most part the answer to every picture was no. Until Gold’s was shown. In unison they both said yes. 

Shortly after the tale Killian had told Emma the night before, of that man being his mother’s therapist for years, came through. But not from Killian, from Liam. Who had a distinct memory of the man’s gold tooth. This portion of the investigation wasn’t entirely a necessary breakthrough but it was a way to put the pieces together. It was a way for Killian and Liam to know who this man had been, to put a face to the crime. In some odd way she hoped it would help them to cope and to realize that this was a longstanding affair that occurred from a time before they were born until the death of their parents, so they could in no way blame themselves. The true smoking gun was the knife, and the confession Emma would drag from Gold as soon as she had a second alone with him. Graham had been with him this whole time, with little success, so Emma’s job was far from done. 

“Thank you for your help,” David said, signaling that the Jones’ were free to leave if they wished. Emma looked to Killian who appeared off kilter. His whole appearance glazed over. 

“Dad can you, uh, can you give me a minute?” Emma tilted her head in the direction of Killian, who hadn’t moved from his seat. Though his brother was already on his way out. The younger Jones seemed frozen on the spot. 

The two were alone in the room now. A second of privacy in a circus of activity. Killian still didn’t look up at her, his eyes instead focused on his hands that rested on the table. She walked over to be closer to him, kneeling to his level. She caught herself staring at his profile, the sharpness of it especially given the circumstances. 

“I knew it was coming I just… it’s different to actually hear it. After all of this time I didn’t think it would be this… I thought the pain wouldn’t be as deep but...” he said finally, still not looking at her. “He’d been to my house, Emma. For years… that man…” 

“I’m so sorry,” she cut him off. Noticing he was struggling to find his words. “I tried to warn you, all that I could. But I didn’t want to feed you a story and have it be wrong.” 

He turned to her, eyes watery, on the verge of tears. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, love. You’ve done so much for me.”

His hand reached out for her face, and she leaned into him, knowing they were risking so much just being alone together. Sure her father knew about them, but with everything happened today it was dangerous. Still her skin tingled as he touched her. Her blood racing, warmth where his palm rested on her cheek. The pull toward him was stronger than the pull away from him. 

“I want you to have something,” Emma reached into her pocket. His hand falling from her skin. She had saved one small thing, hoping she would have the opportunity to give it to him. The piece of paper folded tightly so it fit easily in his palm. He opened it up, taking in the image on the parchment. His face softened. 

“Emma, what is this?” he asked, his gaze never leaving the image. But she suspected he knew. 

“It’s a drawing, one of the sketches your mother drew. All of the others had to go into evidence but I saved this one… I thought you might like to have it.” 

She had given him the drawing Moira had done of the two little boys playing in the yard. Running carefree in front of what would only be his childhood home. 

Finally, he looked up at her from the sketch. “Thank you.” Was all he said, but his expression said so much more. He looked like he wanted to kiss her, but she knew he wouldn’t, not here at least. 

“She was a complicated woman, but deep down she was good.” Emma wanted in anyway to make Killian understand she saw his parents as humans. Not dead bodies. “And she loved you.” 

He gulped, finally, a tear falling down his cheek that Emma thumbed away. Their foreheads resting together. Faces close enough they could feel one another breathe. She would have to go soon. Gold was waiting, her father was waiting, everyone was. Maybe someday there would come a time where she and Killian wouldn’t have to sneak. Where they could be as they were in public. However, that day wasn’t today and she suspected he just wanted to get out of this office. 

“Emma…” 

“Yes?” 

“I…” he paused, for a long time, for what felt like years, and she thought she knew what he was going to say. The air between them completely wired with heavy emotions. “I think you should get out there before they send a search party for you.”

Something that felt like disappointment fell over her. Though she wasn’t sure why, well not entirely sure. It was probably because it felt like he wanted to say more but chose not to. A habit she was often also guilty of. 

“You’re right.” She pulled her face away from his, less temptation to reach out and kiss the tears away from his face. They both stood, righting themselves slowly. Neither in a huge rush to leave the room, though it was inevitable. 

He kissed the top of her head, chastely and quickly so no one else was any the wiser. But she could still feel the unspoken words on his lips as the pressed to the top of her head. He was still biting them back even as he walked out of the office. I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So bear with me here. This story is FAR from over, a whole lot more in store. I know this chapter was a bit slow. Anyways, comment, kudos, messages are always welcome (even if I don't always respond to them, i just feel like a broken record when I do but I will get back into it, feedback is incredibly important and it never goes unmissed by me). 
> 
> As always thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the next update!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! It's time for anotha update. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos and for anyone who clicks on this story to read it. I am forever appreciative of the feedback. As a new-ish writer in general it's really important to me to put content out there that people enjoy. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT
> 
> Rating: M!!!!!!!
> 
> Word Count: ~7000 
> 
> Enjoy! Read, comment, reach out! I love to hear from people!

Emma left the conference room with Killian, a place where she had been gentle and caring. Her voice soft with concern for the man who she had come to know so well and feel for so deeply. After he had left, and now that she was walking into another room to deal with Gold, her mood had changed considerably. 

The man in question sat at a table opposite Graham. The metal chairs and table the only furniture in the room, the sparse look of its cinderblock framework not leaving anything to interpretation. If you were in this room, on the opposite end of questions, you were in trouble. It was a place Emma had spent many a time in here grilling adolescents for vandalism, getting confessions for shoplifting, nothing of this caliber though. And if she said she wasn’t a bit nervous she would be lying. But any nerves she had about the situation were completely overtaken by the amount of anger she had toward Robert Gold right now. 

“Alright,” Emma said as she sat down in the seat next to Graham, who had already been questioning Gold for an hour to no avail, and hopefully he could prevent her from ringing this guy’s neck. She took a few deep breaths before opening her mouth again, “so I won’t sugarcoat this… it doesn’t look good for you right now.” 

Gold didn’t say anything back, just leaning back in the chair crossing his arms over his chest. A smug look on his face. But beyond that Emma could tell he was nervous. She saw the way his bottom lip twitched in the absence of him speaking. The restricted body language, the small beads of sweat that formed on his forehead after being in the windowless room. 

 

“From what I’ve heard you haven’t been very talkative this morning, Mr. Gold.” Emma started off. David had filled her in in the hall. 

“Why should I be? I was ripped from my home this morning, held in this room, about a murder that happened twenty years ago.” 

“For good reason.” She was fuming. The sheer arrogance of Gold in this scenario. He knew he was caught, that much was clear in his behavior. The deflection was solely for his ego. “The murder weapon was found in your shop, there’s physical evidence you carried on an illicit affair with one of the murder victims and harbored aggressive resentment for the other murder victim, namely her husband. Her goddamn ring was in your shop. Shall I continue?”

He leaned forward, pressing his forearms to the metal surface. “Do you really want to do this? Have Neal lose another parent?”

His gold tooth hit the fluorescent light and beamed as he ended on the word parent. Emma thought steam may come out of her ears. How dare he try to guilt her out of doing her job. How dare he bring Neal into this anymore than he already was. It was low. And it was nasty. 

“We’ve got a double murder, that happened twenty years ago, and all of the arrows are pointing toward you,” she said, meeting his eyes with hers. Anger boiling beneath the surface of her skin. 

“And what exactly are those arrows, deputy? Because from my view it seems like you have questions that still need answered.” The words on his lips sounded vicious even in their simplicity. There wasn’t a part of Emma that trusted him. 

“I do need more answers, and you’re going to give them to me.” 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“Because if you want your son to ever speak to you again, you’ll do the right thing and cooperate.” She didn’t want to do it. Emma didn’t want to bring Neal into it. He was too good for this, but there was so much that tied Emma to this case she knew she would have to go low to get what she wanted. 

If Gold was angered by the comment he made no show of it, but there was no way what Emma had said didn’t land. It got to him, whether he wanted to show it or not. Because at the end of the day, he knew she was right. There was a high likelihood Neal would cease all contact with his father when he found this out. Almost certainly. Eventually Neal would probably talk to his father again but Emma had fought with her ex enough to know how he handled conflict in his life. And this scenario was… completely unprecedented. He motioned his hand, as if to give her permission to speak, as if she didn’t already have it. 

“Now that we understand each other…” Emma pulled her notebook and pen out, ready to jot things down despite the fact that the whole interaction was being recorded on camera. She was old school in that way. “When did you meet Moira Jones?”

“We met long before either of us were married…” His hand reached up and ran beneath his chin, probably a nervous tick. “She was… rather eye-catching. I was working at a coffee shop.” 

His eyes looked beyond Emma now, focused on something behind her. If she didn’t know any better she would say he was getting emotional?

“She came in every day and ordered the same thing, had this lovely accent.” A smile. “I didn’t think she knew who I was… and then one day she saw me in the park, not in my uniform, and we got to talking.”

“When did it go south?” Graham asked, easing Gold into the story. He was clearly able to tell it. And he wasn’t lying Emma made sure of that. The words coming out of his mouth were nothing but the truth. 

“When she met her husband.”

“But you two still carried on?” Emma jotted little things down as she listened to him talk. 

“Brennan was… everything her parents wanted her to marry. And she didn’t want to disappoint them. So she made me a deal.” 

“What was that?” 

“She would marry him, but we would still be together in secret.” He looked back to Emma. “I said no… initially.” 

Emma lifted her pen to her mouth, going over the timeline in her head that she had from Archie, the man who had also been a therapist for Moira Jones. How he had told Emma that Moira and her lover had taken time from each other. That he thought Moira’s affair picked up 5 years before she was murdered. But Emma knew it had been longer. 

“How long did the two of you stop?” Emma eyed him, careful to make note of exactly how long things had stopped… and if he would dare lie about it. 

“About a year before her first child was born…”

He told the love story Emma had long been trying to piece together. Giving her what she had needed all along. How he had posed as a “doctor” so he could see her in her home. The town of Storybrooke too small and gossipy to risk seeing each other in a public place. He had moved here from an even smaller town, following Moira’s lead. He was backed into a corner, knew there wasn’t a way for him to work his way out of this one. All they would need was his fingerprints on the knife and the blood test to show it belonged to either Jones. That which would arrive later that week and had already been sent away. Emma tried not to get too emotional, thinking of having to see Neal later. Gold would probably be in the holding cell at the station until the knife came back. 

“The night of the murder, how was it that you ended up at the Jones house?” Emma urged, the last pieces of the story needing to fit together. 

“She had planned to leave Brennan… that fall. My wife had long left me, I had my son. But I thought I could make it work…” his voice shook as he spoke, the normally confident, arrogant man gone. To reveal a version of Robert Gold she had never seen before. “And then the night before she was going to leave him she backed out. I guess Brennan had caught her packing and…. Well he got rough with her. ” 

The room silent, the emotion so thick. Emma could picture the Jones family in the stately home now in such disrepair. Going off on each other, Brennan terrifying Moira. The idea of it all being kept behind such closed doors making the stakes much higher. 

“It had happened before, she would promise to leave. Then she would take it back, telling me it wasn’t the right time. Not the right place.” He paused, hands shaking more now than ever. “And then he started to hit her. She was terrified of him. So I went there that night with the intention of standing up to him, and taking her away.

“But when it came time to leave she wouldn’t. Brennan had known for years, everything that went on. He only cared when it had the potential of being public. He did it all, pulled all of her strings. Took her out of his will, threatened to take the boys, anything to keep her there. He paralyzed her emotionally and despite everything, those boys were above all else.”

He took a long pause, scratching his nose, sucking in a deep breath. But Emma and Graham didn’t push him. They didn’t have to. 

“She wouldn’t go. She never would. That night…. I… I never intended to hurt her. She was everything me. But after I had stabbed Brennan, she still defended him. As if he would magically come back.” 

Another sharp intake of breath. A thick layer of tears. A look that could only be described as a mix of shame and regret. 

“She would have never run away with me. Nor would she have ever forgiven me….” His head fell to his hands. Reliving every second of that night as he told it. “I was angry, hurt, irrational. Before I could stop myself I did to her what I had done to her husband. Then I ran. I took the knife, I left them there. I never spoke of it again.” 

Emma had never expected him to be so… emotional. He was a cold man. A manipulative man. Even before all of this she hadn’t trusted him, he was slithery. And as she heard him tell his side of things, the only side of things they would ever have, she realized why Moira had stayed with her husband but kept Gold in her life. She felt trapped between two men who terrified her. Emma felt terrible. Her heart aching for the woman who had been in so much pain, so much turmoil for so long. Emma had gotten her confession, the admission of guilt from the murderer himself. In spite of all that she felt no relief. Perhaps it was the impending conversation she would have with Neal. Perhaps it was all of the pain Killian had been through because of the man in front of her. 

Graham looked over at Emma, realizing she was about to break. He nodded, standing from the table to put the cuffs on Gold to arrest him. Allowing Emma to breathe. She stood and watched it happen, the silver links tying his wrists together. Graham ushering Gold out of the room. It felt like the whole world had gone silent, and there was only a ringing in Emma’s ears. Watching in slow motion as the answer to her work left her alone in the room. 

 

Two days later, Emma was back in the office. Working with Ruby on trying to figure out who had been sending the clues. Neal and Henry had come home Sunday night. A tired, teary eyed Emma pulled Neal aside as he was dropping Henry off at her house. They sat on her porch over iced tea as she told him what all had happened. 

“I just… I can’t believe it…” Neal overcome with emotion, leaned forward in the rocking chair to rest his head in his hands. “The bastard…” 

“Did you have any idea he was having an affair?” Emma asked after a long while of them sitting on the porch. Neal’s reaction going from angry to sad to silent. She let him do what he needed. Hating that she was the one who told him. His heart breaking at the disappointment in one of his parents yet again. 

“Honestly, I thought maybe, but then my mom left and he was okay for a while. And then I got older and didn’t really pay too much attention to him…” Neal’s eyes were tear stained, the same eyes he had passed along to their son. 

“You know you always have our family, Neal, you don’t have to go through this alone.” She reached out and rubbed some of the tension out of his shoulder. 

“I know…” He offered the only smile he could at the moment, “I guess we’ll have to let Henry know.” 

They both looked in through the porch window that led into the living room. Where Henry sat watching tv. Completely unaware of the conversation happening between his parents. 

“I can do it, if you just need some time,” Emma said. 

“No. It’s okay, I can, we can do it together.” 

They went into the house and broke the news to their son. Sparing him the illicit details. He didn’t need to know everything, just the basics. He was upset, rightfully so. He and Neal spent the night on the couch, just keeping each other company. Emma wasn’t far, she made one of the few things she could - popcorn. All of them just needed to feel like they had a family right now. 

And now, the hunt was on for the person behind the clues. The ease of mind that came from locking up Gold was short lived when they had other people to apprehend. Emma had her suspicions but nothing concrete. She thought back to Sunday. When she had asked Belle about the murder weapon, and the woman had so willingly led her right to it. Then Emma thought of her initial suspicions. How the person had known exactly how to avoid being caught, how there was rarely a slip up in months worth of clues. How Emma had thought that it could have been an inside job. It made sense. But there was nothing of interest at Gold and Belle’s house. Nor the shop. It was another dead end. Though it didn’t keep Emma from digging. 

Belle would make sense, perhaps she found something or knew something of Gold’s affair but like Moira was scared to come to the police with it. She could have reasoned out the scheme and planned it knowing all of the tricks of the trade. All week Emma and Ruby worked on this theory, worked to find something, anything that would give her reason to suspect Belle. But if the brunette had been the one behind the clues she wasn’t stupid. Knowing the end game goal of the thing to be the arrest of her husband, she wouldn’t have left anything incriminating behind. It would require a large amount of hunting, and the barest clue would give them what they needed. Assuming Emma’s answer was even correct, but no one else had come up with another solution. So for the time being it was what they were rolling with. 

 

Friday night, Emma came home from the most emotionally, mentally, physically exhausting week of work she had ever experienced. She had the house to herself. Henry with his father, still reeling themselves from everything that had happened. Emma did her best to comfort her ex and her son in the wake of what had gone on but there was only so much she could do. So after four nights in a row of spending hours with the boys, she took the night to be alone. 

The house quiet with emptiness she took in the vast space. While she loved having people in the house, and the little sounds that came from that, the silence was nice. The wood floors clean from a week of no feet, the kitchen free of dirty dishes, everything neatly tucked into its place. Emma breathed in the smell of home. Closing her eyes to block her mind out from the week that had led to this quiet. For a few moments she just stood. 

Once her mind had been effectively calmed, she proceeded to go upstairs and soak herself in the goddamn tub for probably close to an hour. She had brought a book along with her, as if her mind could even handle the mere task at this stage of the day. Emma ended up mostly just laying her head on the lip of the clawfoot tub and allowing the stress to fall off her body like the droplets of water gliding down her skin. And for the first time, really ever, she wished she wasn’t alone in the bath tub. 

Sunday. Nearly 5 days ago. Had been the last she had seen of Killian. She had tried calling him, he had tried calling her. A few texts were shared but they just weren’t on the same wavelength this week. It wasn’t great, after the past few weeks when they had spent so much of their time together. So many nights wrapped in each other, to go without that, even for a few days was hard. As much as she didn’t want to admit it she missed him. But at the same time Emma knew he needed time, and he knew she had a lot of work to do. So perhaps they were more in tune with one another than she thought. 

Perhaps she could go over to his place again, surprise him, release some more of the tension pent up in her body from the week. Emma thought of the night before they arrested Gold. When she had shown up at Killian’s hotel and stayed there with him, his words just as clear now in her head, “I want to make love to you”. It had made her shiver with desire down to the fibers of her bones. And it wasn’t just the promise of physical contact with him, it was something more. She wasn’t stupid, stubborn definitely, but she knew what it felt like to fall for someone. It had happened so few times in her life that it was unfamiliar but still not unwelcome. 

But when she climbed out of the tub to get dressed to head over to see Killian, she doubted herself. The last move had been hers. She had shown up there. She had initiated it. There was a selfish part of her that wanted him to do the same for her. After all, the case was drawing to a close, perhaps he had only been interested in her because she was a convenient fuck. Thinking beyond the case, or at the very least talking about it out loud, had never been something they had addressed. Maybe that was because he didn’t want anything further. He had a career, a life, in a whole other country. How could she possibly fit into that? 

After toweling off and climbing into leggings and a t-shirt she felt better. Clean. Relaxed even, her muscles loose from the warm water of the bath. When she entered her bedroom it was entirely dark, the evening sun was setting leaving a scarce amount of light. Emma flicked on lights as she padded her way through the house, headed for the kitchen to make herself something to eat. 

The house was still quiet, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the front hall was the only noise around her. She thought of turning on some music but decided it would be better without it. Using her limited cooking skills Emma took out the supplies for the one meal she could actually make well…. Macaroni and cheese. Someday maybe she could benefit from watching her son prepare food. Henry was quite talented, she could learn a thing or two. But for now this would have to do. Her stomach was turning in on itself, for many reasons, but one was probably lack of food since lunch. She poured herself a glass of the only wine she had in the house at the moment. A sweet riesling she kept in the back of her fridge. There was no part of her that wanted to leave the house again tonight, so it would have to do. 

Emma took a sip of her wine before setting it on the counter and filling a pot with water for dinner. She was about to light the stove when there was a very distinct knock on the front door. She leaned away from her task to try and see who was at the front door but it was nearly impossible in the dark so she conceded to walk down the hallway and see for herself. 

Opening the door, knowing who was on the other side, she felt her heart grow lighter. Her mind quiet now that the man occupying her thoughts was now standing in front of her. Killian. She tried her best to mask the relief she felt, that he was here at her house. Because as much as she tried to remain casual about their whole dynamic, there was more beneath the surface of it. And while the thought of having an actual conversation with him about what happens next terrified her, it also excited her. 

“Hi,” she said, not knowing anything better to greet him with. As the nature of his visit wasn’t exactly made clear to her. It was earlier than they usually saw each other. Not midnight, not 1 am. It was like…. 8 o’clock

“Hi, love.” The use of the familiar term making her a bit more relaxed. She was still wired though, there was something about seeing him at her house that invigorating. “Might I come in?”

His questions was almost sheepish, as his eyebrow went up though there was the promise of something more. And she hoped he wasn’t just dropping by. 

“Of course, come in,” she said maybe a little too quickly, opening the door to let him in. He breezed past her, the fibers of his shirt brushing hers, the skin of his bare forearm dusting hers. She felt her nipples grow hard with the contact. She almost regretted not wearing a bra underneath her thin t-shirt. Almost. 

“So I, uh…” he started, standing a few feet before her. His hand nervously reaching up to scratch behind his ear. “I’m um…”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around this week,” Emma blurted out. She wasn’t sure if he was headed toward an apology but she felt like she needed to say it. 

A light smile played on his face, his beard was thicker today, like he hadn’t shaved all week. She liked it, decidedly, and wondered what it would feel like to have his face on hers. His beard tickling her skin. 

“I was about to say the same thing to you,” he said, eyes meeting hers. She couldn’t help but return the smile. “Liam and I… we took some time this week. Went off the grid for a bit.” 

“Oh yeah?” Emma eased toward him, past him, and began walking into the kitchen. “Where did you guys go?”

He followed behind her into the kitchen, like this was the most familiar place in the world. It was nice that the effortless flow of their movement together wasn’t just sexual. It was in real life too. And now they were in her kitchen where she tried to resume cooking her dinner. “We went to our aunt’s lakehouse. An hour or so away. We needed some time to process.”

“How’s Liam doing with all of this?”

“He’s as okay as he can be, it’s not an easy pill to swallow.” Emma watched as he spoke, the tightening of the vein in his neck. “The man, we knew him, Emma. He was in our house.” 

“I can’t imagine.” It felt like her eyes were beginning to tear up, again, as she watched him cross his arms and lean against the counter. 

“Liam has a family of his own now though, and it’s growing. So that’s helped him a lot.” 

“It’s growing? Is his wife…?” 

“Yes, Laura’s pregnant again.” As sad as he had looked walking in here, the light behind his eyes at the mention of being an uncle a second time over was undeniable. “They’re planning to move back here now.”

Emma tilted her head to get a better look at Killian’s face. Was this the time to ask what he planned to do? As selfish as it was, a large part of her wanted to know. He looked like he had more to say, like he maybe wanted to articulate it himself. But he didn’t, he hesitated. 

“I’m sure it’s helped him to have you around. The two of you have been through so much, only you know what he’s been through and vice versa… it’s nice that you have him.” Emma hopped up on the island, her favorite place to sit in her kitchen. While he talked to her, the gentle tone of his voice sounding the slightest bit broken. 

“He isn’t the only one that I have.” 

Emma felt herself blush. The slight red creeping up her skin as his eyes bore into her. The sentence was deliberate. He wasn’t talking about anyone else. And his expression backed that up. 

“I’ve had you.” Killian pushed off the counter, stepping toward her. Occupying the space between where her legs dangled from the island. Close enough she could feel his breath on her face. A tingle went through her body. The look on his face suggestive that he wanted to be even closer. His proximity caused the worry she had felt about them before to slip away. There wasn’t anything to worry about. Whatever she was feeling, he felt it too. 

She followed his lead, knowing how quickly the two of them could turn from casual conversation to all-consuming want. Emma looked up at him and very clearly said, “You’ve never had me on this counter.” 

“Aye, love. That I have not.” He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. Now dry from her earlier bath and probably wild with curls. Even the simplest touch, the lingering feeling of where his thumb had brushed her cheek, made desire boil within her. He looked at her like he may kiss her, and she wanted him to. God did she want him to. But instead he backed away. A smugness on his face that suggested he was far from done with her. 

“What are you drinking, darling?” he said as he picked up the wine bottle that was sitting not far from her. Scanning the label. A playful look on his face, clearly pleased with how easily he could toy with her. And the same went for him. More than a few times he had been on the receiving end of her teasing. A form of foreplay they had come to love. “Riesling?” 

“Yeah…” where was he going with this. “Would you like a glass?” 

He looked up from the label, back to her, his angular features up to something. “Might I have just a taste first?” 

“Sure,” she said cautiously, eyebrow going up as she handed him the glass of wine in her hand. He took it the wineglass, slowly, resuming his spot between her legs. His jeans grazing her legs. It took all of her willpower not to just wrap her legs around him and pull him all the way into her. But she was stubborn. And if she had any trust in this man she knew he wouldn’t disappoint her. 

“What’s interesting about Riesling is how versatile it is.” He swirled the wine around in the glass, leaning his nose down to smell its aromas. “It’s sharp… but also sweet.” He set the glass down beside her. 

She watched his every move, in anticipation for the next one. His hands went to either side of her waist, causing the warmth in her body to concentrate at her core. She bit back a gasp as his eyes didn’t leave hers, watching her closely as his hands tugged on the hem of her shirt. 

“Its taste strong enough to stand up to more powerful flavors…” His tongue danced along his lower lip. His hands pulling her shirt over her head. There wasn’t a single ounce of her that would have resisted. Urging him with her eyes to continue, she was half bare before him. “Soft enough to go well with desserts…”

His head bent to press a passionate, but all too quick kiss to her lips. Killian kissed his way from her lips to the line of her jaw. 

“Killian…” she groaned, the feel of his lips too much for her. 

His only response being to continue kissing her as he pressed her back into the counter. Now laid out before him she was entirely vulnerable to his touch. The cool marble on her back. Killian pulled back, grabbing the glass of wine again, raising it above her waist. 

“The only delicacy I can think of, unique enough to fit all of those qualities is you, darling,” he said, his voice velvet smooth with innuendo. Emma looked up at him, watching as he tipped the glass she could feel every shred of her succumbing to his toying. Heat in her center. She felt the light stream of wine meeting her skin. 

Killian’s hands laid on her thighs pushing them open further so he could bend to lick a trail where he had just poured the wine. The feel of his tongue causing Emma to close her eyes in pleasure. He lapped up the liquid, from the top of her pants up to her breasts. He swirled her left nipple in his mouth while twisting the other to erection. His hips pressed into hers and she could feel every inch of his glorious length. Emma’s body became tense with aching need for him to ease the friction at her center. 

“You taste divine, Emma,” he muttered before taking her pert bud between his teeth. “Damned minx, not wearing anything beneath your shirt.” 

“Ah, Killian, I need…” she gasped. Her body shooting to meet him inch for inch. Her legs wrapping around his waist to pull his hardened cock toward her. 

“What, my love, what do you need?” 

“Please… you.” If anything his use of the word my serving as an amplifier to all that she felt for him. Her back arched off of the counter as his mouth moved from her breasts to the waistband of her leggings. Pressing a chaste kiss to her mound beneath the fabric of the leggings before ripping them off in one quick movement. Soon after her panties were torn from her, now leaving her entirely naked. 

His eyes roved over her, appreciating the view. Confidence shot through her as he looked at her. Eyes hooded with want and passion and animalistic need. Then immediately he was on his knees, throwing her legs over his shoulders. His head pressed between them. The second she felt the scruff on his face hit her skin she needed more. He kissed up the sides of her thighs, making his way to where she needed him most. He licked a long line down her core. He whole body beginning to shake. Her hands went to the edge of the counter for support as she pulled his head closer to her with her thighs. Needing him to not be gentle.

That was the last slow movement he made because his mouth turned relentless. Tonguing at her clit. Fucking her with his tongue. It swirled around her clit, rough on her swollen center. Her back arched further. Pressing her bare mound further into his mouth. She heard him make an “mmm” sound the wetter she became. 

“So impatient, Emma,” he spoke between swipes of his tongue. Everything he did was arousing to her. She could barely breath, feeling his mouth unforgiving on her sensitive flesh. The more she writhed in pleasure the more it urged him on. He cared so much for her needs, wants, desires, it was rare for someone to be that way. “But also so ready for me.” 

Suddenly his mouth pulled from her, just as she was about to crest the peak. White hot anger shooting through her as she watched his face, chin coated with her arousal. He licked his lips. Smirking at how frustrated she probably appeared. 

But before she could scream at him like she wanted to, he was undoing his pants, and freeing his cock from its confined space. Then he was on her, tugging her up and to the edge of the counter. Killian’s arms around her, aligning himself with her center. He kissed along her shoulder, neck, jaw, then her lips. Smoothly kissing her breathless as he sheathed himself inside of her. 

“I couldn’t make it another second without being inside of you,” he whispered, their faces so close as she wrapped her legs tight around him to pull his cock completely into her. “I missed you, Emma.” 

“I missed you too,” she cried. And she had. Not just this, though the sex was blow the doors off good, she missed all of him. He thrust into her, his gaze never leaving hers as he brought her to her peak. Fucking her with abandon but also looking at her like she was the only human being on this earth. His interesting blue eyes were stormy and filled with desire. She climaxed, her whole body fighting to keep him inside of her as he followed her over the edge. 

Her body felt boneless, Killian taking her in his arms. She held her arms around his neck to keep her upright. The pleasure still so intense she could hardly believe it had felt so good. He wasn’t much better off, with his heavy breath in her ear. Her fingers toyed with the hair on the back of his neck, soothing both he and her as they collected themselves. 

“I’m gonna need to get a new kitchen…” Emma joked after a few minutes of measured breathing. 

“Why’s that, love?” he asked with a smile, sliding his arms to wrap around her lower waist so he could see her face. 

“Because I’m never going to be able to look at this island the same again.” She giggled. The inappropriate nature of this encounter, the choice to fuck in the kitchen. It was exhilarating. 

“Ah yes, well I’ll never be able to have a glass of that wine again without comparing to how it tasted with you.” His eyebrow went up. “I really did miss you this week, Emma.” 

“I know.” She ran her hands down the front of him. Wishing he wasn’t wearing a shirt overtop of his chest. “I never thought that I… that we… I missed you too, Killian.” 

He seemed to blush a bit at her admitting, again, that she felt as he did. Rarely was he bashful but right now it flickered. And then just as quickly as it came, it was gone, his confidence back as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Perhaps we could continue this in a place where you don’t prepare your food.” 

He finished it off with a nip of her ear. Igniting her desire quickly once again. She had all but forgotten about the mac and cheese she had been trying to make, the pot sitting next to the stove. For right now the only appetite she had was for Killian. And as he whisked her into his arms with little effort, she allowed herself to be carried away by him. 

 

It wasn’t long before they reached her bedroom and began engaging again. Falling into the bed as if it were the most natural thing in the world for them to be there together. Hot kisses, tangled fingers, smooth movements. Reaching their release at the same time, crying out for one another in ecstasy. As waves of pleasure ran through their sated bodies. 

In the aftermath of their passion they lay together. Killian’s arms securing Emma to his side. She ran her fingers along his skin, just needing to touch him in some way. Every once in awhile he would press a soft kiss to her head or her hand to reassure her he was in no hurry to leave. 

But in the quiet of the house, it was very distinct when Emma’s stomach began to growl. A result of her lack of food since lunch. Her face reddened in embarrassment at the sound, as Killian had clearly heard it. 

“A bit hungry, love?” he asked between laughs. 

“Just a little… I was kind of in the middle of making something when you showed up.” 

“Darling if you were hungry you could have just said something we didn’t have to-”

“Oh yes we did.” Emma sat up, looking in his eyes. “We both needed that.” 

“Do you have anything here to eat?” he asked, brushing his fingers along her cheek. Almost making her forget how hungry she was. Almost. 

“Not really… I have macaroni and cheese..” judging by the look on Killian’s face he wasn’t too thrilled with sharing a child’s size box of easy mac. “Maybe we can just order take out.” 

“Sounds good to me.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips before Emma reached for her phone. 

 

They had decided to order Chinese food. As it was one of the only food places still open for delivery at this hour nearby. Everything shut down so early in Storybrooke even on a Friday night. Killian and Emma stayed naked and basking in their fluff bubble as long as they could, before dressing when the food would arrive in a few moments. 

“I must say you look especially gorgeous in one of my shirts,” Killian said from the bed. Emma had slipped into the thing, loving the natural smell of him that stayed with the fabric. As she looked at him posted up in her bed she thought to herself that this was something she had already gotten so used to, how could she ever go back to not being involved with him? It wasn’t that they were official, in fairness they hadn’t even gone on a date. It was in that moment, wearing his shirt, waiting for takeout with him, watching him lounge in her bed that she knew they would have to have a serious conversation about what came next for them. As much as the stubborn part of Emma wanted to just let him go back to London and not express anything she felt at the risk of sounding desperate, the part of her that had fallen for him was much stronger. So at some point she would have to ask him if he saw any kind of future with her. Because she was starting to with him. 

“I don’t have any cash, do you?” she asked, looking through her wallet. 

“I have some. Front pants pocket, love.” 

“Thanks,” Emma said as she reached down to grab his jeans. She fumbled around in Killian’s wallet finally finding the cash, but as she pulled it out of the sleeve something else fell and hit the floor by her feet. 

Looking down it appeared to just be a small, white, crumbled piece of paper, but as Emma picked it up and flattened out the worn paper she realized it was more than a piece of paper. In her hands was a photobooth picture of two people laughing in one, kissing in another, sticking their tongues out. Killian was one of the people, a lightness to him that wasn’t in him anymore. But the other person, a woman, wild brown hair, deep chocolate eyes. 

“Killian…” Emma started, her voice shaking, hands unstable as well. “Who is this woman?”

“What?” he sat up, looking toward Emma to see what she was referring to. Genuine concern. His face fell when he saw what she was holding. “Emma, I swear I didn’t know that was in there….” 

Her blood raced, a mix of anger, confusion, sadness, “who is she to you? Answer me.” 

“That’s my ex-girlfriend… Grace… I thought I had taken that out of there… I’m so sorry Emma.” He stood from the bed, his face wrought with worry. 

Emma couldn’t even say anything else, her emotions getting the better of her. She didn’t want to hurt him. God that was the last thing she wanted. She began to shake even more, her whole body in shock from finding it. Before she could react any other way she ran to her bathroom, closing the door, locking it behind her. 

She slid down the solid door to the floor. Trying her best to take deep breathes as adrenaline took over. She didn’t know what to do. But what she did know was she couldn’t figure it out while looking at Killian, thinking of him the way she did. 

“Emma!” She heard Killian knocking on the door, pleading with her to talk. “Emma please, I swear I didn’t know that was in there! I don’t… she doesn’t mean anything to me anymore, Emma. It’s you that I love!” 

Emma lifted her head. Tears brimming in her eyes as the confession poured from him through the door. She could tell he meant it. Which made everything that much harder. 

“I’ve fallen in love with you, Emma. You must know that. There’s no one else. There never could be.” Though his voice through the door was muffled she heard him loud and clear. Feeling her heart physically break as she looked at the picture in her hand. 

The woman in the picture, the woman who Killian had known as Grace, was actually someone else entirely. 

The woman in the picture was Neal’s mother. And her name wasn’t Grace it was Milah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what ya thought/don't hate me!!!!! xoxo


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took me a minute to construct. I've obsessed over it enough that it was way past the time to update. That being said, I hope this provides (some) answers to the previous chapter. Though there are still more layers to uncover I wanted to give a taste of what was to come. I love feedback, I love hearing from people, and I am obsessed with all of the stories + art in the CSBB right now so all of that DEF distracted me this week. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT
> 
> Rating: M 
> 
> Word Count: ~8000
> 
> Thank you so much for all of the support!

**Emma’s POV: Present Day**

Emma sat on the bathroom floor, reeling from all that had happened in the past five minutes. Despite hearing the words from Killian she had longed for, to validate her own, it was tainted by what she had found in his wallet. 

Killian had said he didn’t know the picture was there. Which was certainly plausible given the state of the thing. Crumpled, balled up, even a bit ripped. Definitely worn from time. But Emma couldn’t shake the thought from her head. Neal’s mother, Gold’s ex-wife, Killian’s first love. They were all one in the same. Did any of them know that? Were any of them the wiser to the connection all of the men shared? If Emma was honest with herself, the look on Killian’s face, his reaction, his behavior when she found the picture, pointed to him being completely clueless to who this woman actually was. And maybe that was worse. That would mean she would once again have to tell him something about someone in his life that would further break his still-healing heart. Beyond a shadow of a doubt Emma knew that was why she had locked herself in the bathroom. Not some notion that he had any clue who Grace… Milah really was. But that’s just the thing, who was she? 

**Milah’s POV: 1994**

The day Milah left Storybrooke was the hardest day of her life. The place that had been her home the past ten years, she now had no choice but to step away from. 

It had all started months ago. Nearly a year now that she thought about it. The slow decline of her well being had come to a head, and she had no choice but to seek the sanctuary she knew she would never find in Maine. Milah was going to return to London. She took only the basics with her, a small suitcase of enough clothes to sustain her simplified life. She had packed and unpacked this same bag dozens of times, doubting the decision with each sweater she folded, every pair of pants she stacked. It wasn’t an easy choice but she knew she had to go. 

Milah had married young, 20 years old to be exact. It wasn’t quite the wild, romantic adventure she had always pictured herself having. She married Robert Gold because they had engaged in a one night stand that left her pregnant with a man nearly 10 years her senior. To say her life had taken an unexpected turn would be an understatement. He had proposed out of obligation, not love as she had always hoped for. Her marriage to him would result in her American citizenship, he had told her. Something she had dreamed of, and why she had come to the states in the first place, to become a citizen. All of the pieces fell together and she took it. 

But now ten years later the weight of her decisions fell heavily on her shoulders and on her heart. Together she and Robert had a beautiful son, but in the wake of her unhappiness she began to resent both of them. It was a complicated feeling, resenting your husband and the father of your child. It was always in the back of her mind. In part because she suspected he was in love with someone else. Day by day, though, especially in the past year she had grown despondent, each morning it was the greatest task to even pull herself from the bed. Let alone wonder who he was carrying on with. Most days she didn’t even bother, body tired and useless she stayed wrapped in a cocoon of warmth. The only comfort she felt now. 

Neal took the brunt of it all, something she hated. It’s an ugly thing for a child to have to see. But her body, mind, soul could not shake. That hopeless feeling that comes from not being able to control your own happiness was with her day in and out. She didn’t want to disappoint him anymore than she already had. So the choice for her to seek help, to relieve her young son of that burden made the move all that more clear. 

The night before Milah decided to leave for London went on as any other. Her husband would come home from his shop, now picking up Neal because she couldn’t do it anymore. It almost burned to be outdoors in the light of day. When Robert got home he would come upstairs to check on her, as he always did, and bring her a warm cup of tea. Really the only tradition they had in their marriage was to end the day that way. And it continued even during her decline into darkness. Though she rarely had an appetite, he insisted and she complied. Sipping the warm beverage, often, as the only meal of her day. 

“Milah…” The soft sound of her husband’s voice from next to their bed, though he didn’t sleep there anymore. “Your son has something for you…” 

In surprise she flung the covers over herself in an attempt to conceal the state of herself. Hair tangled, face pale with illness, near skin and bones she felt like. It was no way for her son to see her, so she tried to cover up as best she could. 

The covers had hit the tea her little boy was holding in his hands. Causing it to spill all over the floor. Scalding hot liquid that could have just as easily gotten on him, luckily all it hit was the floor. Immediately she flew out of the bed to see the damage. It wasn’t bad, but it could have been way worse. That reality dawned on her as she held her son’s arm for what must have been the first time in months. It was then, with tears in her eyes, she decided she needed help. 

“Why don’t you go back to London… with your mother. Take time,” Robert whispered that night, long after the tea incident and Neal had gone to sleep. “It’s not good for him to be around this.” 

“I know.” And she did. So the following day she booked a flight, packed a small bag of her barest belongings, and headed back to London to heal. 

**Belle’s POV: 2015**

A ring. Belle couldn’t believe it. The beautiful piece of jewelry she had found stuffed in the back of her husband’s closet. She had been packing both of them for a trip to the Bahamas for her birthday when a small, velvet box had fallen from where it was kept secret. Upon opening the box she saw the ring. Such a simple, elegant piece of jewelry. One she would be happy to wear, once he gave it to her of course. It was her birthday, after all. As much as she wanted to take it out and wear it right then and there she resolved to leave it for whatever surprise he was planning on their trip. Putting it back in its rightful place, she continued packing for she and her husband. 

But weeks later, they had long returned from their trip. Complete with dolphin swimming, romantic dinners, and lavish gifts, among the gifts the ring was noticeably absent. Well, of course, Robert didn’t know it was noticeably absent, he didn’t know she had found it. While on the trip though Belle put on a smile and thought perhaps he would wait to give it to her another time when they were back home. He didn’t. 

An unsettling feeling came over Belle, something wasn’t right about this. Could it be that he was waiting until Christmas? Their anniversary? It didn’t make sense to keep it hidden the way he had. So she confronted him one night at dinner. 

“So I found something the other day…” she started, swirling around the vegetables on her plate. As much as she wanted to know what the ring was for she was also nervous. Nothing like this had ever come up in their marriage before. “There’s a ring in your closet… it fell out when I was packing for our vacation.”

Her husband didn’t look up from his plate at her, simply continued eating all the way at the other end of their long dining room table. “It’s a piece for the shop. It needed repairs I must have just forgotten to take it back.” 

Then he looked up and smiled at her. But it didn’t quite reach his eyes. If it was a piece for the shop why was it not there? Why would he bring it all the way to their home? Despite her questions she kept quiet, eyeing him from her end of the table. Trying to decipher whether or not she believed him, something she had never before needed to do. The thought lingered in her head all throughout dinner. And her bubble bath. And as she sat in the library he had designed for her, reading a Jane Austen novel she had plucked from the shelves. 

The room was quiet, save for the crackle of the fire burning in the large antique fireplace. It was her safe place, her haven. The warm embrace of the lushly cushioned couches and chairs, flanked on all sides by shelves of books. The large windows had been covered for the night by drawn curtains, giving her more privacy despite their home’s remote location in Storybrooke. No one ever bothered to come by, a fact Belle had enjoyed when they first moved in. The privacy it allowed for them to have both during the renovation and during the honeymoon phase. But now she wondered if perhaps there was a reason they got so few visitors. Sure, she had thought the discussions she overheard about her husband before they had gotten together were idle gossip but now she wondered, were people really so put off by him? 

The man in question entered the room, sliding through the thick pocket doors that had previously been closed. In his arms was a silver tray, and from the looks of it carrying a tea kettle and cups. Belle closed her book, tucking her legs up underneath her as he approached. 

“Belle, I know you aren’t happy with me,” Robert said as he gently set the tea tray on the coffee table. Now a few feet from Belle who was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. “The ring is for no one else, it’s simply a piece I was taking the time to repair myself. It was here because I had thought of giving it to you for your birthday, but decided against it when I found the necklace I got you instead.” 

Belle toyed with the gift wrapped around her neck he had given her on their trip. Feeling its chain that ended with a simple pendant diamond. It was gorgeous, and far more extravagant than the ring. She looked up at him, unsure of what to do next. He came off sincere, worry crinkling his face, she wanted to believe him. So swallowing her pride she did, he had never done anything to cause her to mistrust him before. A light smile sprang onto her face, to show him he didn’t have to treat her like glass. 

“I suppose I overreacted.” Belle watched as he poured the steaming tea into the delicate tea cups. One had chipped during the move to their current home, the result of Belle clumsily dropping one while putting it in the china cabinet. The mere presence of it on the tray right now reminding her of how happy she was in her life. 

“It was a misunderstanding, sweetheart. I should have taken it back right after I bought the necklace.” Robert took their fresh cups of tea, handing one to his wife and taking the seat next to her on the couch. And for a bit the two just sat sipping their tea by the warmth of the fire. 

 

However, once you first suspect someone of cheating, it takes more than a forgiving conversation and a warm gesture to ease the pounding of that thought. This Belle found to be true in the coming weeks where she felt her alertness heightened by her discovery of the ring. Ever since the idea of Robert having an affair slithered into her mind, there was little she could do to fully eliminate that suspicion, try as she might. But truthfully he gave her no other indication of adulterous behavior. He was the same man she had fallen in love with and married. At 38 years old when she met him, he was nearly 20 years her senior. That hardly mattered to her at the time. Part of her problem in relationships had been the presence of her old soul mixing with men of her own age. Belle remembered being in college and utterly unimpressed with the men who were available to her. 

Then she met Robert. Upon moving to the small town in Maine, a job transfer from an even smaller police department about an hour away. She had always enjoyed the quaint town living she had chosen but there was something special about Storybrooke, perhaps it was her love of books and the very name of the town. Perhaps it had been the friendly nature of its inhabitants. Or more prominently, the charming lure of the man who owned the town’s antique shop. Robert Gold. One of the first people she met upon arriving, wandering into his eclectic shop on her lunch break. Only to find some of the most unique pieces of decor she had ever seen. The two got to talking, finding the age gap between them to be irrelevant given the ease of cerebral conversation they had. And from then on, they had spent little time apart. That was in 2009. They had been together nearly 5 years now. Married after 3 years of dating. 

Robert had proposed in the town’s library, filling the lobby with roses and candles, getting down on one knee to ask for her hand. She had hardly waited for him to finish the question before gushing an eager, “yes!” 

But now that seemed so long ago, the happiness and trust felt so far from where she was right now. Belle stood in her husband’s home office, Saturday morning, she was taking the time to meet with the Landmark Society. They would be here in a few moments and she needed to find the home’s records that had come with the purchase before renovating. Everything had to be in place for the home to be considered a legal landmark. She rifled through his desk looking but came up short. 

Belle scrambled around his office, so many cabinets and files were in the expansive room there was no way she would make it through all of them. A few moments later she stumbled across what appeared to be a key. Wrapped in parcel paper and tied with a red ribbon. At first she ignored it but then noticed the number on the side. It was to something specific. No doubt. And then Belle realized it looked to be the key to a room. A hotel room. Her stomach lurched, remembering all of those months ago when she had found the ring. Her initial reaction being that it was for a mistress. But she had kept an eye on things since and there was really nothing out of the ordinary in her marriage. 

The doorbell dragged her out of her unravelling thoughts. Whatever this meant it would have to wait. She tucked the key card in her pocket, vowing to do some digging after the landmark society people left. Right now she just had to put on a brave face and assume everything would be okay. 

But it wasn’t. Time went on, Belle found the hotel the key belonged to and was told that type hadn’t been used for years. So why was it in her home? Could it have simple been a forgotten piece of an old affair? Her husband still clinging to its memories? That was the most likely explanation she reasoned through. At the same time though felt she was grasping at straws. She had nothing, really she didn’t. An old ring, an old key. What could she possibly dream up from that? 

 

After months of driving herself mad with suspicion, she knew enough about her husband’s past to need back up. And not from anyone in her life currently. Belle needed an outsider, the only other person who knew what it was like to be married to Robert Gold. She resolved to do the one thing she said she never would. Find the one person she didn’t want to. But she had no choice. She needed help. With that decision being made, and all of the resilience she had left she bought a plane ticket in cash, telling her husband she was visiting her parents for the weekend. Belle boarded the flight to London, in search of help. 

 

**Milah’s POV: 2016**

“You aren’t an easy person to track down…” The woman across the table from Milah was quite pretty. Dark hair, blue eyes, soft voice. Young too. Not quite as young as she had been when married to Robert. “I had to ask your son if he had any contact with you, that’s how I found you here living under a different name.”

“My middle name is Grace, I go by that name where I grew up…” It was true. The only period of her life she had gone by Milah was in America during her late teens and twenties. As a child her mother rarely called her that, so she used the name Grace when she moved back. “Why are you here?”

It was a fair question, very little disruption from her past life had followed her to London. She contacted Neal when she could but he was never interested, and for good reason. But now here was the woman who had married her ex-husband, all the way from Maine, for what reason? What could this woman possibly have to say to her? 

“Why did you leave?” the woman named Belle asked, genuine curiosity in her eyes as she did. 

“Excuse me?” 

“What made you leave your husband and son, it must have been pretty significant.” The two women sat outside of the tavern Milah worked at. Next door to the tavern was a coffee shop, where the two had sat down for tea. Well, after Belle had cornered her at her place of work and agreed to talk to her as opposed to creating a scene. 

“I left because I wasn’t happy there…. I came home. I stayed with my mother, and then took care of her when she got sick.” Milah took a sip of her tea, not entirely comfortable with the turn of this conversation. She felt guilty enough for leaving her son behind but at the time it was for the best. 

“Anything else?” 

“Listen, if you came here to tell me how incorrect all of my decisions have been that’s a conversation I’m not interested in having. Chances are anything you have to say about my choices I’ve already played in my head a thousand times. Quite frankly I don’t know why you would be here at all.” 

“I’m not here to scold you. I am simply asking you if there was anything beyond unhappiness that made you leave.” A look of honesty came across Belle’s face. She leaned closer to Milah, who was still utterly confused, across the table and spoke softly when saying, “when you left, were you ill?”

“What do you mean?” 

“When you left America to come back here, were you physically ill because of your unhappiness?”

To say the question was right on the nose, would be an understatement. 

“Yes.” Now Milah was more cautious, “It manifested itself in many ways.” 

“Aches? Nausea? Chills? Fatigue? How long did it go on before you left?” 

“From what I remember it was over time… several months, a year maybe. It was all very long ago.” 

“No appetite?” 

“Correct.” 

“Except for one thing, right?”

“What?” Milah’s brow went up, trying to figure out where Belle was going with it. But Milah remembered it all like it was yesterday. The inability to pull herself from her bed, the look of sadness and disappointment in her son’s eyes. She had felt so hopeless, because, while she loved her son she wasn’t the mother he needed. It’s an honest perspective, the eyes of a ten year old. 

“Your husband at the time, did he ever bring you tea?” 

At the mention of tea, her memory was jarred and she thought back to the night before she decided to leave for London. The warm liquid spilling on the floor, the frightened look in her son’s eyes. 

“Yes, he would…”

“He and I began that tradition as well, a few months ago.” Belle looked down at the scone in front of her, still having gone untouched. “And slowly, my health has been declining. I couldn’t hold down any of my food, I rarely had the motivation to leave my bed. At first I thought perhaps I’m pregnant. But 6 months later, I realized that wasn’t true.” 

She had Milah’s attention now, describing the exact same scenario she had been under nearly twenty years prior. 

“I went to doctors, none of which knew what was wrong with me. I went on a restricted diet and that didn’t help. My blood tests returned clean, there was literally no explanation… except for one. The only thing I continued on with, was mine and Robert’s nightly cup of tea.” 

“So you think he was doing something to the tea?” 

“He was systematically poisoning me. And I suspect he did the same with you. The only reason I realized it was happening was because I slowed the intake.” 

“But wouldn’t that show up in a blood test? I saw my fair share of doctors during that time too but nothing ever came up.” 

“It wouldn’t though, would it?” 

Milah thought about what Belle was insinuating. It was far fetched, it was wild, but how much of a coincidence would it have to be for both of them to experience the same exact thing during their marriage to the same exact man. 

“But then, how are you here then? If he were really poisoning you how in the world did you manage to get to London?” 

“He’s gone, himself. One week a year in September since we’ve been married… he takes off. A different excuse each time…” 

“But what motivation could he possibly have to poison not one but two of his wives?” Milah wondered aloud. A question she needed answered if she was in any way expected to believe this. The whole thought so shocking to her even after all of this time. She couldn’t even believe she was actually sitting here listening. But a small part of her instinctively was hearing it and realizing it wasn’t that far fetched at all. 

“Moira Jones.” 

Milah tried not to look as shocked as she probably did, but the last name. The same name Killian had, it was hard not to be surprised. 

“What about her?” She and Killian had discussed how his parents were no longer around. How they had died. He hardly went into great detail. It was a natural conversation for two people in a long-term relationship to have. But she had never disclosed her time in Storybrooke to him, knowing there were a few years of overlap. As far as she had told him, she had only ever lived in London. Too scared of telling him the truth, that she had failed as a mother and wife, running away. 

“I have reason to believe he was involved with her, she was a woman from an affluent family. Did you ever meet her?” 

Milah gulped. No, she thought, but I know her son. 

“No… I haven’t but, she was killed, correct?” Milah had a feeling she knew where this was going, and she didn’t like it. Not one bit. From what she understood, the Jones murder had never been solved. Dread filled the feeling in her stomach where the skepticism toward Belle had once been. 

“She was. Along with her husband.”

“You don’t think….?”

“Actually yes. I do. It would add up.” Belle looked nervous to say the next part, almost as if she was debating whether or not to fully come out with the words. But the woman took a deep breath and continued on. After all, she had come such a long way. “And confirming what I suspected about you, it makes everything that much more clear. You didn’t run away, from your life from your family. You were driven away, by your ex-husband. My current husband. As he’s trying to drive me away now.” 

Anger started to form inside of her, if what Belle was saying was true, then Milah had abandoned her son with a monster just as he had planned. She had fallen into a trap that allowed Robert Gold to kill. Not just anybody, the parents of the first man she had truly fallen in love with. Killian. How would she even begin to explain this to him? Did she even believe any of it? 

“I know it’s a lot to take in… and I understand if you want no part in this but I need to make sure a level of justice is served in this. I feel an enormous amount of responsibility to ensure that happens. So with or without your help I’m planning to put him behind bars.” 

“You want my help in this? I haven’t been back there in close to twenty years. I can’t imagine I would be much…”

“Listen, I’ve felt like I was grasping at straws with all of this for the past year. I can’t even begin to tell you how odd it felt to realize something was wrong with my body but not be able to figure out what. I’m a smart girl who has fallen into a situation where I feel like an idiot. I don’t have much time before he’s onto my motives.” 

Milah’s attention was entirely on Belle, the emotion behind her was honest and raw. The same sort of feeling Milah felt now knowing she had been betrayed. 

“I know it’s a lot, Milah… Grace, whatever you would like me to call you. I probably sound insane. But I need your help. I’ll answer any questions you have. The man I’m married to… the man you were married to is dangerous. And he has managed to get away with this for so long. I need another person, someone who doesn’t have to live in the same house with him out of fear. Or he might slip through the cracks again. Just… think about it. No one would have to know you’ve returned.” 

Belle stood from the table, handing Milah a folder. It felt light in her hand but the physical weight of it was nothing compared to what the woman was asking her to do. But when she looked up at Belle, she saw nothing in her eyes that screamed dishonesty. What she saw was the same look Milah had so many years ago. A look that read as pure sadness and exhaustion and desperation. The kind that could only come from your life turning out so horrifically different than you expected. To come all of this way, to reach out to someone she had no history of interaction with the woman had to be desperate. Milah remembered what that felt like. It was in that moment that she decided to trust her. But before she could begin to help this woman, this stranger, there was something else she had to do. 

 

Later that night Milah sat on the couch of the living room she and Killian now shared. Looking through a small file Belle had given to her before leaving this afternoon. There wasn’t much inside, a few pieces of information that pointed toward Gold. But not enough. At least not enough to go to the police with. It was a twenty year old murder, an investigation team wouldn’t have that much motivation to open it back up without something big. She was going to help Belle find that something big. Milah looked at her surroundings to make a lasting memory of the final time she would be in the apartment she and Killian had turned into a home. Their home. 

Two years ago they had moved in here, Killian purchasing the two bedroom flat in London. Not too far from his office, and not too far from the bar she worked. It was a time that had felt surreal to her. Never imagining she would find anyone who loved her, Killian had taken those grim expectations and run right over them. But now more than ever, suitcase packed and sitting by her feet, Milah realized she had no choice but to leave. 

_The day Milah met Killian she was working as she had since after her mother passed away in 2000, at a tavern called The Wooden Leg. It was dark, dated, tucked away. The kind of quiet she needed in her life when she left behind her then husband and son. After her mother had become ill Milah focused all of her energy toward caring for the woman who had given her life. Speaking with her husband over the phone to find out how Neal was doing. But when she suggested Neal come visit, Robert had told her it wouldn’t be good for their son. Given the last time she had seen them. It wasn’t long after that, she and Robert divorced. Relinquishing sole custody of their son to him all the while losing her mother. She needed to work to keep herself breathing._

_The work at the tavern was tiring, especially during busy season, but it provided her with the financial stability she needed and the human interaction she so lacked in her everyday life._

_“Can I get you something?” she asked the man who sat down in the farthest corner of the bar. Finishing up her polishing of a rocks glass she set it down to head in the direction of the man. But when he looked up at her she felt her insides freeze._

_Eyes, clear and blue as the sea. Hair, dark and unruly. A face so handsome it looked to be cut from stone. She had seen a lot of different customers in her 8 years working as a barmaid. None who ever looked like him._

_“A, uh, a rum… on the rocks please.” He smiled at her. Revealing pearly white teeth and a dialect that matched her own. He was young. Much younger than her, but that didn’t stop her breath from catching before she could respond._

_“Sure.” Was all she managed to get out before walking away. Hands shaking, she went to prepare his drink. A feeling she hadn’t experienced since she was a much younger woman hit her like a truck. And when she tried sneaking a peek back over to him he was doing the same to her. As they caught each other they both smiled._

_“Thank you,” the man said as she set the glass down on the worn, wooden bar top. “I didn’t catch your name…”_

_She hesitated. Having kept herself locked up so privately since her return to London, and never had she given a customer her name. Very few bothered to even ask. But there was something about him that made her think it might not be the worst thing to indulge._

_“It’s Grace,” she finally said. The name she had lived under during this chapter of her life._

_“It’s lovely to meet you, Grace.” He shifted in his seat, giving her a view of his left hand. No wedding ring. It was an odd thing to notice but it made her slip the fake ring from her own hand and slide it into her pocket. A showpiece to prevent grabby patrons from hovering over her. Though she had been legally divorced for some time now. “I’m Killian. Killian Jones.”_

After that night she was a goner. He came back to that bar to visit her and talk nearly every single day when he wasn’t traveling, and she could not remember a time in her entire life when anyone had made such an effort. Despite their difference in age (he was 27 and she 44) they got along very well. Over silly things at first. Their love for football, they both claimed rum as their drink of choice, their taste in movies was similar, they both loved dogs but had never had one. 

All of this was fine with her, until their bond became deeper and she felt herself begin to fall in love with Killian Jones. And she knew she was in trouble. 

As much as Milah would have liked to think their age difference never mattered, it obviously did. When you’re in a serious relationship with someone, as she and Killian turned into, there are conversations that happen. Talks about settling down, marriage, kids, a family. And she had never told him of her history. How she had left her son and ex-husband behind. The part of her she was too ashamed to speak of. How she had been such a terrible example of a mother. He would never look at her the same. It was something that loomed over her head and their relationship wherever she went. 

“If you don’t want to have children, I understand,” Killian whispered to her in bed one night. Now that he was getting to a place in his life where he was established it was a natural progression of conversation. But it was too difficult for Milah to bear. 

“I don’t want you to miss out on having that sort of life because of me. I’m almost 47 years old, Killian. My time is running out.” She knew it was. But there was a part of her that didn’t want to run out her biological clock. That could picture having a little one of their own running around. They would have to sell the flat of course. Find something with a yard, a fence perhaps. Where the little one could play. But any vision of that was always cut short with the lingering ache she felt from abandoning her first child. The guilt that was forever present. Accompanying that guilt was fear. The fear of telling Killian the truth about her past. The fear that if she ever went back to her son to explain why she left he wouldn’t want anything to do with her. And above all else it was fear that kept her in place. Fear of disrupting her son’s life more. Fear of fully facing that town again. Fear of being honest about all of it. 

“Grace, sweetheart, don’t cry.” Killian turned her to face him in bed. The pads of his thumb chasing away the tears. “It’s alright.” He pulled her into his chest, not knowing the true reason behind her emotions but loving her through it anyway. A man truly too good for her. With a wonderful soul and she hoped he would find his equal in that someday. 

It was that, and about a thousand other reasons why Milah knew she had to help Belle. She knew she had to end things with Killian, give him a shot at having an honest relationship with someone who wanted the same things out of life he did. If she told him everything now, all it would do was hurt him even more than he had been in his life. 

Killian was due to arrive home from a business trip in a few moments. Milah’s bags already packed. She had gone over and over in her head what she would do. The basis for leaving being how much he traveled, and his work consuming him. It wasn’t a lie, and they fought over it time and time again to explosivity. But it wasn’t the whole reason she was going. There was no way, knowing what she knew now, about her ex-husband’s link to Killian’s family, that they could continue. She would have to come clean about her past, about her own son, her name. And she could see Killian forgiving her, she really could, he was a wonderful and kind man. Broken, but understanding. 

However, he could never fully trust her again and she knew that. He would try. Killian would try until his face turned blue to completely forgive her but Milah wasn’t willing to put him through that. She had done enough. If she helped Belle, they could both find healing and a future without one another. Killian would have closure on what happened to his parents, and Milah could return to her son and make an attempt to rebuild what had been shattered with her leaving. 

Milah heard the front door to their flat shut, he was back. Gone for a week, he looked worn. Tired. The travel between London and the States a lot on him when it happened so frequently. She thought maybe she would wait until the morning to leave, have one more night with him. Just to feel them curled up together for the last time. But then Killian caught sight of her suitcase. 

“Going somewhere?” he asked, cautious of her motives. His tone tight-lipped. He was always the one leaving, not her. So the presence of a suitcase the most telling. 

Now or never, she thought. “Killian I’m leaving.” Milah stood from her seat on the couch. Moving toward the handle of her suitcase. Needing this to happen as quickly as possible before she changed her mind. 

“You’re what?” The newspaper in his hand had fallen to his side. Still dressed in his suit, he looked distraught and she could feel the corners of her heart begin to tear. 

“I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore. It isn’t fair to you. Or to me.” 

“Grace, I thought… we’ve talked about this. I will try to be around more, but it’s work, I’m so busy. The going back and forth, it will end soon. I promise.” 

“You’ve been saying that for so long.” Milah stepped closer to him, he looked as if he may cry and she thought it would be best to just tell him the truth. Tell him everything. But she couldn’t. She didn’t know everything yet, that was why she had to leave. “We aren’t right for eachother, Killian. We never were.” 

He opened his mouth to argue but then shut it. Deep down he knew she was right. Perhaps if she was 20 years younger, and she didn’t have all of the emotional baggage she did and there was a tangible future it would be different. But that wasn’t the case. And at the very least if she left him now he could find someone else. 

They fought for a long time, Milah trying to end the argument and simply leave before she could change her mind. But they both clearly had a lot of pent up emotions for one another. With Killian traveling so much, their fights lately had been frequent but short. Neither one wanting to waste his time in town arguing. Now, though, it all came out. 

Finally, after the veins in Killian’s neck were sufficiently strained, and Milah had screamed loud enough to wake the neighbors, she threw a lamp. She didn’t know why she did it, it wasn’t even at him. But it finally got the message through to him. She was leaving, they were done. 

“Get out,” he said, not able to look her in the eye. It broke her heart. She was hurting him terribly, they were hurting each other. There was a time when if they fought, they were quick to make up with sex or some form of apology. But when she looked at him, and he at her, the only thing that read on either of their faces was defeat. Their run had been good but not solid enough to stand on. And soon enough, she hoped, she and Belle would find all of the answers they needed to land Robert Gold where he needed to be. Prison. 

As Milah walked down the hallway, leaving their shared flat, leaving behind her life with Killian she fought back tears. Knowing this was for the best. For both of them, didn’t make it any less painful. And if one thing was for certain, Milah would find a way to have the man responsible for murdering Killian’s parents locked up, justice finally served. It would be a way she could somehow make up for contributing to the deception and disappointment the man she loved had experienced time and time again. 

 

**Emma’s POV: Present Day**

Emma didn’t know much about the woman in the picture. Milah. Grace. Whatever she truly went by nowadays. Emma didn’t know for sure if this woman in some way had anything to do with the murder or the clues or any of it. However there was one thing she did know. Running her fingers over the picture in her hands, Emma knew she recognized the smile on Killian’s face in the first one. It was enamored it was blissful, it was how one looks when they’re in love. Initially she thought she saw within the picture a lightness he didn’t have anymore but that wasn’t true. His facial appearance there matched the one she often caught him showing her. The two expressions didn’t betray each other just as she knew, in her heart, that he hadn’t betrayed her. 

Emma stood from her spot on the floor, knowing Killian was on the other side of the door. She hadn’t heard him leave. Her heart was heavy as she knew what she had to do. She had to tell him about his ex-girlfriend’s real identity, the truth, because he so clearly didn’t know anything about it. Somehow over the past few months Emma had become the unspoken honesty bomber in Killian’s life, she didn’t love it, but there was no other way for her to live. Especially feeling the way she did about him, the promise of any kind of future with him would have to be an honest one. 

Opening the door she found he was sitting on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, he had slipped his briefs back on but other than he was bare to her. In more ways than one. Killian looked up at her with a morose gaze she wanted to kiss away when he heard her come in. 

“Emma… I, I crossed the line, with saying it. I know that. It just came out. It’s not the right time, I don’t want to rush anything.” He stood from the bed, careful not to get any closer to her. The fact that he thought his confession of love was the reason behind her hiding in the bathroom made her heart ache. “I’ll leave, I just wanted to see you before I did.” 

“Killian before I say anything else,” Emma spoke softly as she approached him. The picture of his past left behind on the bathroom floor. It was just the two of them here now, and before it became anymore tainted than it already was she had to say something. “I need you to know how I feel.” 

Killian’s attentions were entirely directed at her, an anxious quality to his posture as he probably assumed himself to be prepared for the worst. It made her next moves all the more clear. 

“I love you,” she said confidently as she stepped into his orbit. They were close enough that the fabric of his shirt Emma still wore rubbed against his bare chest. Their connection so strong, a wild animal could barge into this room and both of them would be dead before they bothered to tear their eyes from one another. 

He looked genuinely surprised as she stood before him, looking up at him, gauging his reaction. Ultimately he seemed stunned. “You do?” 

“Of course I do.” She put her hands on his face, wanting to savor these few moments of peace before having to break his heart with what she knew. “I know it’s soon, and we’ve only been… doing whatever it is what we’re doing for a few months. But I…” Her breath caught as she looked at him, his face all adoration, a complete reciprocation of all she felt. “I really have fallen in love with you.” 

He bent down to kiss her, and as Emma wrapped her arms around Killian’s neck he lifted her off the ground. Sometimes words were not enough, but his lips on hers were. The feel of his tongue dancing along with hers, spinning her around. It was enough to know that he truly felt as he said he did and the butterflies in her stomach couldn’t be stopped as he poured into her mouth all that he was feeling. 

He pulled his lips from hers, a move neither one of them were ready for. His forehead rested against hers as they both caught their breath. “I suppose it’s high time I take you on a proper date then, my love.” 

“Oh yeah?” She smiled, she felt so weightless in his arms. Wanting to stay wrapped in his warmth, forever. Her hand rested on his cheek while the other rested on his shoulder. As much as the thought of dating had always freaked her out, picturing Killian across the table from her at some restaurant wasn’t scary to her. In fact, it excited her. He smiled back at her when he saw that her flushed skin had returned. Brushing his left hand over the trail of pink on her cheek and neck. “You’ve already gotten into my pants, there’s no need for all the bells and whistles, Killian.” 

“Darling, I know we’ve done things a bit… out of order, but that doesn’t make the idea of wining and dining you any less alluring.” 

She hoped beyond hope that their admission of their feelings could withstand the emotional test of what she was about to tell him. Deep down she knew they were. Looking at him now, she had no doubts. But as much as she loved being in their bubble, and talking of the future, there was something she had to do before that future began. No secrets would be kept between them. Emma couldn’t live with herself. She had to tell him what she knew. 

“What is it, Emma?” He pulled his face away, a look of worry crinkling his brows together, still holding her off the floor. She wriggled from his embrace, needing to be grounded for this. 

“Killian there’s something else I need to tell you….” It made it that much harder that he really and truly had no clue what he was in for, but still looked at her with all of the faith in the world. 

“Is everything alright?” 

“The woman in the picture, the one I found in your wallet…” 

“Emma I swear, I haven’t spoken to Grace since we broke up. She’s not… a part of my life anymore.” 

“I know that.” And she did. Conviction backed his words even as he stammered through them, Emma had been lied to enough in her life to know that Killian most certainly was not doing that right now. Just as she had no plans of ever doing to him. “The woman in the picture, she isn’t who you think she is… her name isn’t Grace. It’s Milah. She’s Robert Gold’s ex-wife…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay, please comment, review, message. Thanks, as always for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I realize it has been a while since I last updated. Forgive me, I was traveling and job interviewing and had very little access to a computer for most of the time. BUT I'm back and since it took me so long to update I made this one super long. I just wanted to say thank you for all of the feedback I have gotten on this work, it truly is what keeps me going. If I'm having a bad day I go back and read the lovely comments from all of you and it makes me feel like I can write. So without further delay, I give you, Chapter 19 :) Enjoy!
> 
> Disclaimer: All rights to OUAT 
> 
> Rating: M 
> 
> Word Count: ~11,500

“The woman in the picture, she isn’t who you think she is… her name isn’t Grace. It’s Milah. She’s Robert Gold’s ex-wife…” The words in Emma’s throat felt like daggers as they slipped from her mouth. Especially as she watched Killian’s calm expression go through about twelve different phases of shock, disbelief, and sadness. 

“Emma… what… how? I don’t understand…” The normally suave Killian choking on his own breath as the revelation made its way through his head. Her heart was heavy as she watched him. Wishing that instead of having to tell him this, they could have crawled back into bed together and bask in the afterglow of their confessions of love. But that would have been too simple. 

“I know this is a lot for you to take.” She stepped toward him but still cautious of being too close. 

“It can’t be true… there’s no way...”

“I can explain and prove that it’s Gold’s ex-wife, I wouldn’t lie to you about this. I wouldn’t lie to you ever, Killian. But I couldn’t keep this from you.” 

“You’re absolutely certain?” his voice cracked on the last word. Judging from the layer of tears enveloping his baby blue eyes he trusted her enough to know that, though it sounded absolutely crazy, Emma wouldn’t lie to him. Which was incredible considering the very thing she was telling him meant that his last love interest had lied to him. 

“I am.” Emma thought of the picture of Neal and his mother she had seen a thousand times in his apartment. She had been younger then, Neal being just a small boy, but Emma knew it was the same woman. Emma tilted her head looking up at him. It seemed like Killian was shrinking into himself. “She left when Neal was very young, he never knew why or how. But I’ve seen pictures of her… he has one in his apartment. That’s definitely his mother.” 

Killian turned away from looking at her. His hand coming up to his face to cover whatever was going on there. Then he ran it through his hair, causing it to stand up on all ends. Revealing his face to be extremely upset. 

Taking steps toward the bed. He sat down on the edge, and rightfully so. The news was a lot to swallow, assuming he truly believed it possible. His gaze fixed itself on the floor near Emma’s feet. And she didn’t know exactly what else to say. 

“She was quite a lot older than me…” Killian began, still not pulling his gaze from the floor. It was an insane accusation but Emma could tell he was measuring out the logistics of it all. “She was a huge part of my life for years but I still always felt like I didn’t truly know her.” 

Emma transfixed her eyes on Killian, the last statement had clearly been a thought that had crossed his mind before. It wasn’t the first time he questioned Grace/Milah. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His body looked tired, and sad and Emma wished she could just lift the weight of all the disappointment he had experienced in his life and take it away. 

“Do you think she had anything to do with whatever happened to my parents…?” He asked in earnest. Though the thought had crossed Emma’s mind, she truly didn’t know. That was something she would have to figure out. 

“I don’t know, Killian. I wish I had more answers for you.” She walked over and knelt down before him. Looking up into his face all she saw was pain. His heart probably warring with the fact that someone he had opened his soul to, had not done him the same courtesy. “I promise I’ll find out everything I can. First thing in the morning, I’ll give you all that I know.” She grabbed the sides of his face, feeling the coarse facial hair beneath her fingers. His breathing eased just a bit at the contact. 

Abruptly he stood from the bed, his tired body now looking restless. Emma knew what was coming. Killian was about to leave. 

“I need… a moment,” he said while collecting his things from the bedroom floor. All the while Emma just watched knowing there was no way she could get him to stay. Killian was stubborn, just like her, and if she were in his shoes she would run too. That didn’t make the reality of the situation any less difficult for her though. 

“I could drive you to your hotel if you want, Killian, I-” she stood facing him. Still wearing his t-shirt but he didn’t reach for it. In fact, he didn’t reach for her at all. When their eyes met, when he finally stopped moving about gathering his belongings, he looked emotionally drained. Wrecked. The love and admiration he saw Emma with had been replaced by the impending truth of what his last relationship had been deeply seeded in. Betrayal. 

“Emma, I have to go.” He was serious but there was something in his expression that begged her to understand why he had to leave. 

“I know.” Was all she could think to say because she knew there was no way to convince him otherwise. It was hard enough to choke out those few words she had without crying. And Emma was not a crier. Ever. 

Emma’s mind raced, wondering if he would resent her for telling him. That he would side with his ex and defend her over Emma. After all Killian and Grace had been together far longer. And wasn’t it a textbook response to shoot the messenger when you find out something you don’t want to hear?

Killian didn’t say anything else to her, only grabbing her arm lightly and pulling her to him. He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead doing what he could to reassure her that it wasn’t her he was upset with. Seemingly reading her mind. But before he could make that proclamation in conversation he began running out the door. Shirtless, shoes in hand, leaving Emma alone in her home. It was quiet enough that she could hear his car rev to life in the driveway as Killian pulled away. That was enough to cause the dam to burst and tears to flow from her eyes. 

 

The next morning, Emma milled about her kitchen. It was barely 7 am but she felt like she had been awake for hours. Unable to sleep after Killian had so abruptly left. The spot where he had laid on her bed still bore the outline of his body, and the sheets felt cold where he no longer was. She looked at the kitchen island, the counter where not twelve hours ago Killian had brought her to such pleasure before it all came crashing down. On the smooth surface was the half-eaten chinese food that had arrived shortly after Killian left. 

Emma had called her father, telling him that she needed to meet to discuss an important piece of information she had discovered. That Milah/Grace were one in the same, and how the same woman had been with both Robert Gold and Killian Jones. Emma didn’t divulge all of what she knew to David. He would probably wonder just how she had figured out the true identity of Gold’s long lost wife, her father being savvy to the nature of Killian and Emma’s relationship. But it was too coincidental not to be ignored. David agreed to come in early, though it was a Saturday, and she would meet him within the hour. 

A ball of anxiety had formed in her belly, taking the place of the elation she had felt the night before when she and Killian had said “I love you” for the first time. He had been the only person, probably since Neal, that she had fallen in love with and it felt right now like maybe it was over before it truly had the opportunity to begin. The faint promise of going on a date together seemed so far away now. Emma wondered if now that Killian knew about Milah, er Grace?, that he would want to continue on with her instead. After all, the two had been together for a long time, there was a time where Killian and Grace had talked of getting married. Emma knew too well that relationships like that don’t just fade into oblivion. It was likely, and far too heart wrenching, and Emma felt the tears from the night before begin to form. This was so complicated. 

As Emma began to leave her house, dressed for the day and armed with the photobooth picture she had of Killian and Grace, a car pulled up in front of her house. A familiar black car driven by the very person who hadn’t left her mind in hours. 

Immediately she froze, only halfway down the front steps of her house. She had no idea what to think. Perhaps he had come back to end things with her, or tell her there was no way to continue in whatever it was they were doing. But as Killian got out of his car she noted he had two steaming cups of coffee in his hands. He wore a pair of aviator sunglasses, the morning now bright with sunlight, with dark jeans and a blue t-shirt. He looked unfairly attractive moving toward her with purpose, and if he hadn’t been wearing sunglasses she probably could have gotten a better read on the man. 

“Do you have a moment to talk?” he asked, a few feet from her. Things never went well when they started with that. The ball of anxiety Emma had grew bigger. This was why she never got close to men. 

“Sure.” She took tentative steps toward the rocking chairs and Killian followed. It was summer but it was early in the day so the heat was bearable. They sat in two side by side rockers, Killian extending to her one of the to-go cups of coffee. It was a nice gesture, she thought, especially if this conversation was going in the direction she assumed it was. 

After a long beat of silence, Killian removed his glasses to reveal dark circles underneath his eyes. He hadn’t slept either, Emma could tell. She could also decipher that he wasn’t here to hurt her, a calm on his face that hadn’t been there the night before when he left her house. He shifted in the creaky, old chair to face her. 

“Emma, allow me to apologize for last night…” he began, his voice full of regret. “It’s inexcusable. You were only the messenger, love.” 

She watched as he searched for his words to continue, but didn’t urge him. Whatever he had to say it would be in his own way and she had to give him time to find that. 

He continued, “I left because I was hurt. Not by you, it just seems sometimes that the demons never truly go away. Every time I turn around there’s another secret that was kept from me, another lie I was told. It’s… exhausting.” 

He looked so tired, not only from lack of sleep but from emotional tug of war. 

“She never wanted to move forward with things,” he said after a long period of quiet, rocking back and forth on the wooden chair. “We used to be at odds over that a lot. No marriage. No children. And every time we did I felt like there was something she wasn’t quite telling me. Every time it was brought up she looked conflicted, like she had another reason behind her aversion to it. I suppose it makes sense, if she had a child somewhere else she had abandoned, to fear having another.” 

He stared off into the greenery surrounding Emma’s house. Probably thinking of all of the times that conversation had happened, thinking of a thousand other situations when her actions didn’t match her words. It’s a hard thing, to realize you’ve put trust into someone who didn’t do the same for you. So as much as it was difficult for Emma to sit and rehash his prior relationship, she knew it was so important for her to simply listen. The mention of kids and marriage was interesting though, it was never something Emma pictured Killian wanting for himself. Before she could catch herself her mind went to the thought of a child. A little blue eyed nugget running around her house. But he had hardly mentioned that to Emma in regards to them. It was possible he no longer saw that in his future. 

“I feel like such an idiot.” His hand went to his jaw, rubbing at the point of his chin. Before she realized what she was doing Emma grabbed his hand and pulled it toward her. 

“I will try to find out what I can about her, Killian. I want you to have all of the answers.” His hand felt calloused but soft when their skin met. Melting with hers so perfectly. It was warm from the coffee cup, and the electricity between their grip on each other buzzed. “I’m going to the station soon to meet with the investigation team to find out all that we can. I don’t want you to have to wonder.” 

“I know, love.” He lifted their intertwined hands and brought her wrist to his lips, pressing a soft kiss as a tear fell from his eye. “I know.” 

They stayed like that for a few moments, taking comfort in the easy silence between them. Rocking back and forth. 

“Last night when I left your house, I thought it was what I wanted. I’ve spent so much of my life dealing with things in privacy, being alone, that I had no clue how to take comfort in having someone there with me.” He kissed her hand again, this time a bit more desperate than the last. Emma’s heart fluttered.“I was wrong. The moment I left your house I knew I was wrong but I was too ashamed to come back. Knowing I had probably hurt you enough.” 

“It’s okay, Killian. I know a thing or two about walling yourself off to be alone.” She had been doing it for so long. Dedicating her energy to being a mother, making it work with Neal so Henry could have both parents in his life, working to support herself. Little time was left for breakdowns and exhaustion and frustration. Emma reached out and brushed some hair from his face. The usually well kept man hadn’t styled his hair, Emma noted.. 

“But I don’t want to be alone anymore, love.” There was an urgency in his expression that both terrified and excited her. He wasn’t here to end things with her. “Not when the alternative to being alone is being with you. That is, if you’ll still have me...”

“Of course I’ll still have you.” Relief washed over her and she couldn’t help but smile, which caused him to smile and for a moment they both forgot about the heavy nature of his past. For a moment they were just a couple sitting on a porch on a Saturday morning, sharing some coffee. Maybe someday, this could be their life all of the time. 

Killian lifted her hand to his chest. Resting Emma’s left hand over his heart. As she felt it beating under her fingertips, she wanted nothing more than to put it back together after all of the breaking it had encountered during his life. 

“It’s yours now, Emma,” he whispered. His forehead falling to meet hers. “My past is my past, there has been so much turmoil in my life and perhaps had this news come to me a year ago my reaction would be different. I was so broken for so long, love. But I suppose if a heart can be broken… then that means it still works and my heart beats only for you.” 

Emma wanted to cry, thinking it was completely impossible that he would be this trusting and this forgiving. But for the same reason she knew he wasn’t lying to her about the picture earlier, he knew she wasn’t lying about his ex-girlfriend’s identity. Their level of trust surmounted all of the other variables. 

“Killian, I never thought…” she could hardly find words for how overwhelmed with emotion she was. “I would never… I’ll always be honest with you. I promise.” 

The word always left an unspoken promise between them. It was only the beginning. He kissed her, leaving her dumbfounded. Desire aching within her, as it had been a minute since they had been… together. His facial hair tickling the skin of her jaw. The sensation causing her hand that rested on his heart, to fist at the collar of his shirt. Emma could feel Killian smirk as they continued to kiss. His confidence kick-starting as he realized how much she missed not having him in her bed to wake up to. 

Emma groaned because, at this time, she could not have him despite how badly she wanted him. And judging from the growing protrusion in his jeans he wanted her just as desperately. 

“I have to meet my dad,” she mumbled. Pulling away from Killian’s handsome face before she got too carried away and ended up tackling him on this front porch. “But I don’t really want to.” 

“I can’t say that I want you to either.” He smiled though, and his thumb brushed the side of her face. “I understand though.” 

They both stood from the chairs, Emma finally releasing his shirt from her grasp. She didn’t want to let go though. She wanted to go back to the moment when she was pretending they were just a regular couple on a porch. Who worked normal 9 to 5 jobs and could spend a Saturday wrapped up in each other if they wanted. Emma looked up at him, regretfully, knowing she had a job to do. 

“I’ll find out what I can and let you know, I promise.” She reached up and tugged him toward her for one last kiss. It was brief but no less burning. 

Killian nodded, a hint of hope in his expression. Like, though he had just gotten a big piece of news that changed a lot of things there was a brighter horizon beyond it. She had given him no reason to believe she wouldn’t work tirelessly to give him resolution, it had been the basis for how they had gotten this close in the first place. Emma working on his parents’ case, never excluding him from the action, making sure he felt that she was always on his side. She would undoubtedly get to the bottom of this, it may take time but she would. 

“Here, this is for you,” he said pulling a slip of paper from his back pocket. Emma took the folded up notebook sheet and opened it. Written in Killian’s script was an address, a phone number, and the words The Wooden Leg. 

“Last night after I left I couldn’t sleep so I did some searching. The address is for the flat Grace lived in before we lived together, and that’s her phone number. The Wooden Leg is the bar she worked at when we were dating.” 

It was nice of him, Killian knew it was basic information that Emma could have dug up in five minutes. But from the look on his face she could tell it was his earnest attempt to give her all he had to help. The sad part was, that was all he had of his ex-girlfriend. An old phone number that was probably disconnected, an old address, her place of employment. He had known so little of Milah/Grace’s past, this was about all he could give to Emma. It made her ache for him. He had spent so much of his adult life with this woman only to realize she was no more than the equivalent of a stranger. 

“Thank you, Killian, this will definitely help.” She smiled, showing her gratitude. Not only for his efforts to help Emma but his willingness to trust her. Even still Emma remembered one of the first days of the investigation when her father stressed to her the importance of gaining a mutual trust with Killian. Now more than ever that trust had been built, and maybe someday she would thank her dad for the guidance. 

“Let me know how it goes today, love.” He lightly kissed her nose before turning and walking away to his car. It was then that Emma knew no matter what happened today, it wouldn’t change how he felt about her. And she for him. 

 

When Emma arrived at the office she was still reeling from the events of the past 24 hours. It had seemed so much longer than that because so much had happened. Armed with her picture of Killian and Grace/Milah, the old address, phone number and workplace she met with her father and Graham first to discuss the best way to pursue this new development. 

“The timeline doesn’t put her in Storybrooke during the time of the murder, we can look into and see if she had come back to America during any point around the murder but it seems unlikely.” David eyed the evidence in front of him in the conference room as did Graham. 

“It’s possible she was the one sending the clues though, if she did know about the murder for a long time…” Graham suggested which was exactly what Emma had been thinking. That Grace/Milah’s involvement came way later in the game. 

“Because if she knew for twenty years why in the world would she have left her son in the care of Robert Gold?” Emma said. Though she had never thought highly of Milah, her loyalty always resting with Neal, she would like to think that if the woman had known her husband was a cold blooded murderer she would have come back for her kid. 

“Exactly.” David agreed, writing all of this down on a notepad. Presumably to discuss with the rest of the Boston team later. Being that they had the resources to find out what they could from London. 

“So what do we do from here?” Emma asked. Unclear on what the best move would be in the quietest way possible. The investigation had definitely slowed since the arrest of Robert Gold, the big fish had been caught. Interest from the media was shifting to the court proceedings, if they wanted to find Milah, soon was probably the best time. 

“We’ll need confirmation from both Killian and Neal to determine the woman is who you believe her to be, Em.” David looked at her like he didn’t want to know exactly how she had come upon this photo. She felt her cheeks redden a bit. 

“We can bring them in later today,” Graham offered, not noticing the unspoken conversation happening between father and daughter. “I’ll notify Boston we need flight records, leases, paper trails, anything that can point us in the direction of this woman.” 

“Perfect.” Emma realized she would eventually have to tell her dad where she found the picture of Killian and Milah, she would most likely conveniently leave out the fact that Killian was in her bed when she did. That was… irrelevant. 

A little while later Emma sat at her desk doing some research of her own. She was greeted by Ruby, who had a box of donuts in her hand and urged Emma to follow her to the break room area. Oh boy. Even if David didn’t want to know how Emma had found the photo, chances were Ruby wanted all of the details. 

“Emma. Nolan. Get over here,” Ruby urged. Emma rolled her eyes pretending to be annoyed. But she really hadn’t spent nearly enough time with her best friend lately, and sneaking in a chat a few minutes before Killian and Neal arrived wouldn’t hurt. 

“What’s up?” 

“First of all, we’ve both been neglecting each other lately. I miss you and we need to hang out more,” Ruby whisper-yelled at Emma in the corner. “Second of all, I’ve been on about 10 dates recently and haven’t told you about ANY of them.” 

“Dorothy? From the bar?” 

“Yeah, she’s amazing. Super healthy relationship. Speaking of relationships, THIRD OF ALL, we both know you didn’t just find that picture of Killian and his ex on the floor somewhere. What the fuck happened?” 

“Rube, it’s complicated,” Emma dismissed. She didn’t want to get too far into it while they were still in the office. “It was in his wallet, it fell out when I was taking out some cash to pay for dinner.” 

“Interesting… and why couldn’t he get his own money out for dinner?” Ruby’s face was suggestive but amused. The one person Emma could, usually, count on not to judge her was her best friend. 

“Because…” Emma thought of lying, saying he was in the bathroom or something but Ruby would see right through it. She looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. “Because he was in my bed okay?” 

“What?!” 

“You heard me. Now be cool. He’s going to be here any minute. You can come over later and we can catch up for real. Are those donuts from your grandma?” Emma tried changing the subject as she saw Killian walk in, looking better than he had that morning but still tired. 

“Jesus, Em. Let the man sleep once in awhile,” Ruby joked when she caught sight of Killian, who flashed Emma a covert smile before shaking hands and greeting David. 

Emma took a donut from the box Ruby was holding, an attempt to stuff her face to keep from giving anything away. Ruby only laughed, handing Emma a napkin. 

“You’ve got it bad.” The brunette took a bearclaw of her own from the box and began chowing down with Emma in the corner. “You both do.” 

“You be quiet…” Emma said, mouth full of pastry as she began to walk away to do her job. Turning back to Ruby with a smile, “I’ll see you later, though. Come over around 8.” 

 

Once Killian and Neal entered the office, Emma did her best to be professional, when in reality here were two men she cared deeply for (in very different ways) about to confirm a potential large key to the investigation. She felt awful, for both of them. The afternoon came and went, Milah/Grace were confirmed to have been the same woman. A facial recognition analysis of the faces in the two photos, one provided by Killian and the other by Neal, proved to be a complete match. 

From there Emma felt a bit lost on what to do, who to comfort, what the next move would be. So she cornered Killian quietly and privately, telling him she would call him later. And keep him updated. In return he was kind and forgiving, still apologetic about leaving her house the night before. But now that what Emma had told him was confirmed as true he seemed a bit lighter, anticipation was always worse. 

Then she found Neal, speaking to him in public as she could, and told him she would take Henry for a few days so he could have some time alone. Since the news of Neal’s father’s arrest, Henry had spent nearly every night at Neal’s, keeping him company. But now, Emma thought, perhaps he could use some time to reflect. 

“Thanks, Em,” Neal said quietly right before he left the office. He gave her a feeble attempt at a smile but in fairness his world had been turned upside down and was still turning. First his father, now it turns out his mother was somehow involved. He had given David the last phone number Milah had used to try to contact him, as it usually happened every so often. But that was really all he had of her. A phone number and an old picture. Much like Killian had so little left of her. The woman seemed more like a phantom to Emma than anything else. 

 

On Sunday night, Emma found herself driving over to see Killian. She wanted to see him, something she felt herself wanting so often these days. To say that she had never experienced this kind of draw toward someone before would be an understatement. Killian Jones’ presence in her life had totally caught her off guard. And she suspected he felt a similar sentiment toward her. They had both been roped off to others. For their own reasons. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was she loved him and he loved her. Which was why she decided to drive over to his place on Sunday evening for a surprise visit. She had called him earlier that day, when she was still at the office to update him on the Milah/Grace situation. 

A plan was in place to hunt down the woman. Boston had assembled a team to monitor anyone who left or entered the town line. In addition, Belle and Gold’s house had been placed under surveillance to see if there was anyone lurking in the shadows. Airlines had been contacted along with landlords, employers and family members of Milah Grace Gold. But very little was found. Emma had worked most of Saturday, only leaving to pick up Henry. Later in the evening Ruby had come over to catch up. Together the three of them ate junk food for dinner and passed out watching a movie in their movie room like old times. 

She looked at the passenger seat of her yellow bug with a Granny’s take out bag containing dinner for she and Killian. Along with a bottle of wine from the decent part of the store. It reminded her of the first night he had been to her house. Showing up at the door with food and his dog to offer her comfort. Her heart warmed at the thought and even though she was alone in the car she felt herself smiling. 

When Emma made it into Killian’s penthouse she announced herself to warn him she was here. At this stage of things she thought very little of calling first. It was a little old school, but she liked it that way. The element of a pleasant surprise. However, Emma turned out to be the one surprised when what appeared to be a toddler rounded the bend into the foyer, followed quickly by Killian’s dog Princess. 

The little girl hardly noticed Emma, continuing to run around the foyer. Chocolate brown curls tied back with a little ribbon that was almost falling out. When the dog noticed Emma and walked over to greet her, the little girl finally stopped running. 

“Hi.” The little girl was a few feet from Emma, pink socks attempting to gain traction on the marble floor. She was absolutely adorable, and unless Killian had a long-lost child Emma was unaware of she assumed the kid belonged to Liam. 

“Hi, I’m Emma. What’s your name?” Emma asked, making her voice softer. The same voice she had used when Henry was the little girl’s age. 

“Harper.” The little girl looked wary of Emma, and the bag and bottle of wine in her hand. But before anything else could be said, Killian came down the hallway wearing what appeared to be an apron. An apron?

“Emma, love, I-” He was surprised and his cheeks began to redden but his face broke into a smile anyway. “I thought you said you had Henry tonight. I wasn’t expecting you.” 

“I know, I should have called.” She felt a little embarrassed. Emma was clearly interrupting something. “I’m sorry. Henry’s at his friend’s house so I had some time.” She gathered herself and decided she didn’t want to bother the two.

“Wait, Emma.” She turned back and saw his face, so handsome as his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why don’t you stay for dinner?” 

Her face softened, “I uh, I kind of already got dinner. I was going to surprise you.” She waved the Granny’s takeout bag in the air. 

“Well, I appreciate that, love. But as it turns out, Harper and I are cooking.” He stalked over to her, noticing the bottle in her hand. “But why don’t we open this for the adults, yeah?” 

He winked at her before looking at the label and taking the bag as well. “Emma this is my niece Harper, Harper this is my…” She watched as the horror crossed his face realizing they had not yet conversed about what exactly they were to each other, at least not officially. “Emma.” 

The little girl standing between them wasn’t buying any of it. Kids were far more intelligent than they ever got credit for. Emma knew as much from raising Henry. The kid was so intuitive always, always aware of people in the supermarket or passing by on the street. It seemed as though Killian’s niece was the same way, just as engaged with the people around her. 

“Are you two gonna kiss?” Killian’s niece asked, looking up at them with wide brown eyes. Emma hadn’t realized how close they had moved toward one another. Killian looked just as embarrassed as she did at Harper’s blunt and not too far fetched question. 

He knelt down to his niece’s level, “That, little one, is none of your business.” His finger tapped the toddler’s button nose before pulling her into his arms and lifting her. “What is your business though is helping me finish dinner. We’re having Beef Bourguignon. You can help Harper with the sides.” 

“What are the sides?” Emma began to panic a little, she wasn’t that great of a cook. She could barely put together a pop tart breakfast. 

He looked at Emma, a wry smile on his face. “Bread, some salad, and french fries in the shape of smiley faces. Do you think you can handle that?” 

Emma shook her head and rolled her eyes. The man had the keen ability to be charming and annoying in the same breath. 

Harper was glowing as her uncle held her. Emma watched the two interact and was fully convinced her ovaries were ready to explode. She’d never thought about having another kid, not after Henry. But watching Killian and Harper made her feel a way she hadn’t really… ever. Which was silly, mostly because they hadn’t even discussed a label at this point let alone if Killian was staying after the investigation finished. The only thing they had talked about was that they loved each other. 

“Well, love, what do you say… dinner?” Killian quirked his eyebrow up at Emma, expectant. And as she looked at him holding his niece, her little arms wrapped around his neck, she could hardly say no. 

“Sure.” Emma smiled. 

“Excellent,” Killian said, spinning on his heel, toddler in his arms, dog following behind. “Come along then, Emma. I believe we have work to do.” 

As Emma followed them into the kitchen, she heard the soft laugh of Harper every so often. Perhaps she could get used to this…

“I really didn’t know your niece would be here, I never would have intruded,” Emma whispered to him once they got into the kitchen and Harper was preoccupied with arranging the smiley face french fries on the baking sheet. 

“It’s quite alright, love. Her parents put an offer on a house today so I watched her and then suggested they go out to celebrate.” Killian and Emma were on the other side of the kitchen whispering. 

“Alright… well,” Emma realized there was no actual way to get out of this. And even more so that she didn’t really want to leave. “Nice apron.” She joked, tugging one of the strings that was tied in the front. Somehow he made even an apron look good. 

“It’s bad form to play with a man’s apron, Emma,” he teased back. Emma bit her lip, looking up at him. Oh yeah, she wished they were alone right now. But they weren’t, so she swallowed her growing desires for him and began to help with dinner. 

The three (well four if you count the dog who stood at Emma’s feet the whole time waiting for food scraps to drop) set to work in the kitchen. Emma had been to Killian’s hotel several times but had rarely seen him use the kitchen, as it turned out he was quite the cook. She remembered him telling her that before and he wasn’t wrong. More than once she caught herself staring at him, watching him move about. Chopping vegetables, preparing sauces, tasting his handiwork, sipping wine now and again as he would find her eyes and give her a wink. 

All the while he included the four year old in the whole preparation process. He taught her how to stir, mix, organize, set timers, measure ingredients, and was patient the whole time. Especially when the salad bowl Harper was preparing fell from the countertop and splattered all over the floor. The little girl began to cry and Killian was so kind, taking her in his arms and helping her start over. If all of that wasn’t enough to distract Emma, he was making a valiant effort to torture her even further every chance he got. 

Killian would brush up against Emma, leaving his touch linger just a hair too long. Helping Emma chop vegetables by standing behind her and placing his hands over hers to guide the motions. Her skin electric from his touch, such a simple domestic activity riling her up. If there wasn’t a four year old in the room Emma would have jumped the man 10 minutes into her visit. 

“That’s it, darling,” his soft voice whispered in her ear, close enough that his tongue lightly brushed her skin. Desire causing her to stop chopping carrots to gain her wits. What a frustrating man. “Something the matter?” He cooed, quiet enough that Harper couldn’t hear. From his niece’s angle, it looked purely like Killian was teaching Emma to chop carrots. 

“Easy, tiger. We’ve got company,” Emma warned. Knowing that if he kept this up she would have to excuse herself. 

He scoffed, stepping away, breaking the trance, but his face was all mischief. He was in an exponentially better mood than he had been the night before. Emma knew it was probably from spending the day with his niece. There was something about children that just made the world an honest and clear place. The perspective of a child was uncomplicated by the nature of adulthood. 

Once the meal was done, Killian, Emma and Harper sat down to eat. Princess, again, at Emma’s feet waiting for a piece of food to drop. The little girl was talkative throughout dinner, leading most of the conversations. It took some of the pressure off of Emma. While she wanted to talk to Killian, she wasn’t used to being around him with a child in the room. And sometimes their behavior was a little… inappropriate. 

Killian had done most of the work for the dinner, which was delicious. He really was a phenomenal cook and Emma couldn’t help but look at him a little differently after seeing him with his niece. 

“You look like my Barbie doll,” Harper said about halfway through eating. Causing Emma to laugh and Killian to almost spit out his glass of wine. 

“Um…” It was cute, Emma thought, but it was never something she had heard before. “Thank you.” 

Before saying anything else the little girl was up and running away from the table. Killian looked across to Emma, still just as amused by his niece’s behavior. It was nice to see him smile. His life was normally so heavy. When Harper returned to the table she was carrying what appeared to be a Barbie doll… that indeed had long blonde hair like Emma but that was where the similarities ended for the most part. 

“She even has the same hair as you.” Harper turned the doll over in Emma’s hand, she was dressed like a ballerina in a white tutu and had long blonde hair with green eyes. “She’s a swan princess.” 

Emma’s heart warmed, holding the toy in her hand she wondered what it would have been like to have a little girl. Harper’s big brown eyes looked at Emma expectantly, waiting to be handed back her Barbie doll. When the little girl had her toy back she ran to return it to its place. And Emma made the mistake of looking at Killian who had the same expression she did all over his face.

“What?” she asked him. Because Killian looked like he was biting his tongue on something. 

“Nothing, love.” He twirled the fork in his hand, moving the remaining food around on his plate. “You’re far lovelier than any swan I’ve ever met.” 

She blushed, knowing that he was being both obnoxious and flirty. It was a part of him that she liked, most things he said to her no one else could get away with. There was something about him though that made her loosen up to it all. 

 

“Anyone here?” a man’s voice echoed through the penthouse just as Emma was clearing the table from dinner. She froze, realizing as the man walked into the kitchen area that it was Liam and his wife. 

“Daddy!” Harper squealed, abandoning her duty as table clearer to run into the arms of her father. She had so much energy in such a tiny little body. Jumping from Liam’s hold to her mother’s. 

“Emma, what a surprise!” Liam’s tone screamed sarcasm, as he noticed her in the kitchen. She didn’t know the extent of what Liam knew of her and Killian but judging from the dopey grin on his face, Liam knew everything. 

“Liam, nice to see you.” Emma smiled, trying to be polite despite the fact that she was wildly uncomfortable. Her fun little surprise take-out dinner turning into quite the family get together. 

“This is my wife, Laura. Laura this is Emma Nolan. She’s the deputy sheriff working on our parents’ case,” Liam said, taking his daughter from his wife. Who leaned over the island to shake Emma’s hand. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Emma.” Laura was friendly, a kind face, big brown eyes like Harper. And from her approach to Emma she could tell the woman wasn’t mocking her. 

“Nice to meet you too.” 

Emma looked across the kitchen to Killian, who was pretending to be preoccupied with removing his apron. As much as Emma knew she would regularly be overwhelmed by the fact that this was familiarity she wasn’t used to, it wasn’t terrible. And somehow with Killian it wasn’t overwhelming at all. That was until their eyes met from across the room with a burn, and all at once she wished the two of them were alone. 

Liam and his wife Laura stuck around for a while. Wanting to talk to Killian about their house buying process, the areas they had been looking, the offer they had put in, what their realtor had said about the housing market here. And as much as Emma just wanted Killian to herself for a while, she loved seeing him with people who he loved that had never hurt him. Liam was his best friend, clearly, and they had spent so many years on opposite ends of the earth. So for Killian to not only be closer in proximity for the past few months, he was also getting to spend time with his niece and watch as his extended family grew. So Emma sat patiently next to Killian on the couch in the penthouse living room, indulging in conversations she normally wouldn’t have simply to see the tension fall from his shoulders, the ease of his jaw, and the comfort he took in being surrounded by people who did love him. Herself included. 

They chatted over glasses of wine, except Laura who had water since she was expecting, and leftovers from the meal Killian had prepared, light Frank Sinatra music playing in the background. All of the blinds and curtains on the entire back wall of the penthouse had been opened to reveal a stunning wall to wall view of the night sky and the city in the distance. 

Eventually they did leave though, carrying along with them the exhausted four year old who had spent most of the evening running from one corner of the penthouse to the other with Killian’s dog. Once Liam, Laura and Harper had left Killian turned to face her. It was just the two of them standing in the expansive space of the penthouse and the room had gone quiet. Emma could swear he could hear her heart beat faster but if he did he made no mention of it, simply extending his hand as You Make Me Feel So Young began to play over the surrounding speakers. 

“Might I have this dance, Miss Nolan?” Killian asked, with the same suave demeanor of a 1920’s gangster. 

“You may.” Emma took his extended hand and immediately he pulled her toward him, wrapping his arms around her as they began to sway together to the sound of the old music. The wine Emma had consumed giving her the effortless ability to follow Killian’s lead. He was quite the dancer, of course he was. “Where did you learn how to dance?” 

“My mum… mostly when I was very young. She used to let me stand on her feet while she moved.” He looked down at her, their faces only inches apart. Slowly moving along with her. Emma couldn’t help but want to be closer to him, despite their bodies being pressed against one another. 

“Your mother sounds like she was a lovely woman,” Emma said, meaning it. Moira Jones had her demons, but who didn’t, aside from those demons she loved her sons and even still Killian seemed to feel nothing but love and admiration for the woman. It was probably why he was such a decent man, though he didn’t have a great father, he respected his mother. With each time he spoke of his mother, Emma noticed he seemed to heal just a bit. 

He only smiled in response, a genuine one that reached his eyes. It was simple moments like this where she could almost forget the circumstances under which they had become so intimate. Almost. Because there was always a lingering feeling of dread, like any moment the glass bubble would shatter and he would flee to London. Or Emma would get too scared and make up a plethora of excuses to get herself away from Killian. However, as he looked at her right now, and she at him, it was hard to imagine being any place but his arms. 

“What are you thinking, love?” he asked, brushing the hair from her neck and bending to place tender kisses at the place where it met her shoulder. The tank top she wore exposing the skin to his lips. 

“Nothing,” she said hurriedly, flushing as she did so. 

“Not even a hint?” he teased, tugging some of skin between his teeth. She shivered. Damn him. And that mouth.

“That weekend you went to New York to give the speech… would it be like that all of the time?” She wasn’t sure what had come over her, deciding in that lovely intimate moment that it was the perfect opportunity to discuss the future. One which they had never even really brushed the subject of beyond him promising to take her on a date… and proclaiming their love for one another. 

His lips left her skin abruptly, an unwelcome breeze hitting her shoulder where he had been. Killian looked at her, serious now and less playful than mere seconds ago, “No, Emma, it would not.” 

He knew what she was getting at with her question. He was a highly intelligent man, of course he got what she was throwing out there. Would he want to continue with it was the next battle. She had thought of that the weekend he had left his dog under her care, would she spend the foreseeable future waiting for him to return from one business trip only to fly off again. Not that she had any right to tell him not to do that, but still it had crossed her mind. 

His hands moved from her body to her cheeks, cupping them lightly in his grip and pulling all of her focus toward him. As if it hadn’t been there already the whole fucking night. “I wouldn’t make that mistake. You’ve changed everything for me, darling.” 

“Really?” she could hardly believe what he was alluding to.

“Emma, I love you. And I mean that, you’ve completely spun my world on its head… in a good way. I never thought that…” 

“Me either.” She cut him off with her mouth, pressing her mouth firmly to his in a searing kiss she had been waiting to give him since she got to his hotel. And they both found themselves lost in it, nearly floating from the prospect of continuing beyond the investigation. The thought of promised time together made Emma so happy. But it was cut short, as per usual, this time by the ringing of a cell phone. Her cell phone. “Shit,” she mumbled against Killian’s lips. “Henry.” 

“Actually it’s Killian, love,” he joked trying to capture her mouth with his again but she tugged away. 

“No,” she pulled her phone from her pocket and looked at the screen to find that it was in fact her son calling. “I’m supposed to pick him up in an hour.” 

Killian’s face fell, but he didn’t saying anything further. She suspected because he assumed she would be staying with him tonight. But mom duty came first for her and if she and Killian were to continue with each other he would have to know that. 

“What’s up, kid?” she said answering the phone. Killian gave her an unfairly attractive smile as he stepped back a bit giving her space and walked over to the large sectional couch in the middle of the living room. 

“Can I stay at Tim’s tonight, mom?” Henry asked on the other end of the line. 

“What? No ‘hello how are you’ for your mother?” 

“Sorry. Hi mom how are you? Can I stay at Tim’s tonight?” Henry asked earnestly. Emma had a feeling he was so eager to spend a night with friends mostly because Henry hadn’t been out of either Neal or Emma’s sight since the investigation had taken a personal turn for them. A summer night with his buddies would be good. 

“Are Tim’s parents there?” 

“Yeah, do you want to talk to his dad?” Henry offered. She wasn’t sure how she and Neal had produced such a decent kid but they did. And Henry was the best. Even if she was a little biased in the matter. 

“No that’s okay, kid. I trust ya.” She smiled. “Have fun with your friends alright? Call me in the morning.” 

“Will do, mom. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” Emma pulled the phone away from her ear to hang up. A grin on her face she couldn’t contain. Killian eyed her having not heard any of the conversation. His eyebrow going up in question. Slowly she sauntered over to where he sat on the couch. Standing between his legs and looking down at Killian, she calmly said, “He’s staying at his friend’s house for the night.” 

“Oh thank God.” And before Emma could say anything further Killian had grabbed her hand pulling her down on top of him, crashing his lips to hers as if he was a man starved. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck to hold herself to him, as her legs straddled him on either side. Killian continued to kiss her, and she him, as he devoured her with greed. So hungry for one another there wasn’t time to make it up the stairs to his bedroom. 

“I suppose that means you won’t have to leave so soon?” Killian asked between kisses. Moving his lips from hers to her chin to her jaw down her neck. His mouth electric trailing along her skin. She ground her hips into his, even over her jeans she could feel how much he wanted her too. She raised to her knees above him, the plush couch a more comfortable alternative than the marble floor. But Emma didn’t care where it was she just knew she wanted him. Now. 

“That depends… on what you had in mind…” Emma toyed with him, her hands dragging down his chest, a peak of the hard planes through the fabric of his black button up. As good as he looked in black, she wanted to rip the buttons open one by one with her teeth. Which she wasted no time starting to do as she waited for his answer to her question. 

Killian groaned, a delicious sound from the back of his throat as she made her way to the top button. “Oh, darling, I plan to fuck you until you can hardly walk.” 

The promise of rough sex with him causing her to roll her hips harder, her center growing wetter as the word ‘fuck’ rolled from his mouth. Taking the buttons of his shirt between her front teeth and using her tongue for leverage as she moved down the soft pad of her tongue lightly grazing the skin beneath his shirt as she went. Button by button she worked meticulously, and as she felt his erection growing, pushed against her core she knew he was just as tortured by her as she was by him. 

Once she had undone the last button, she felt him wrap her hair around his hand and pull her up to face him. His eyes hooded with desire, his grip on her firm. She loved when he was rough, not afraid she would break. Because he could do both. Rough and soft. Like a walking, living breathing sex god he could do both. Often in one night. However tonight, since it had been a whopping 48 hours since they last had sex she needed urgent, hungry, rough. And judging by the way his mouth was eating at her chest he knew that without her saying so. 

“I intend to mark you. Mine,” he growled into her skin as he began to rip at the fabric of her tank top to get at her breasts. Emma arched her back to give him full access as he tore the thin fabric in half to expose her white lace bra. “Have you on any surface of this place that I damn well please.” 

In one movement he unclasped her bra and threw it to the floor, leaving her top half entirely bare. Teeth toyed with her already alert nipples, sucking and biting on each one. Alternating hands and mouth as Emma was helpless to do anything but hold on. Her entire body charged with passion for him, her veins now laced with thoughts of all he could do to her, all he was doing to her. 

“Killian….” she breathed. Barely able to form the word as her desire for him built further. But she wanted him inside of her. Needed it. Her hand grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him up to face her. Immediately her breasts missed the feel of his mouth. “I want you inside of me.” 

Instead of plunging into her as she thought he would, his face twisted into an arrogant grin. Killian released a dark chuckle as he looked at her. “Want or need, Emma?” 

She was too stubborn to admit she needed him at this moment. Her center throbbing at the anticipation of him plundering her entrance, but she remained cool despite her ragged breathing. She held out using the word need and settled for another deliberate roll of her hips causing him to flinch only a bit before his face became hard and serious. A dark look of nothing but raw desire. She gulped at the sight. He was stubborn too. And for a while they just looked at each other, their eyes burning against one another as heat sizzled between their touching skin. 

Without pulling his eyes from hers he began to unbutton her jeans. Reaching his hand in to feel just how much she needed him inside of her at this moment, his expression exuded confidence as his fingers pushed passed her lace underwear to feel her dripping wet folds. His eyebrow went up as if to say ‘who are you kidding?’ and slowly he massaged her. Causing her arousal to grow and her body to feel limp. Her stoic nature wavered as he worked her, slipping in and out at a melodic pace. Eventually her eyes began to close, giving into the work of his hands.

“I’ll ask one more time, Emma...” His gaze fixed on her, as she gripped the sides of his open flowing shirt for support. His head bent to whisper in her ear, “what do you want?”

“You,” she groaned, feeling as his fingers continued to plunge inside of her. 

“And what do you need?” he withdrew his fingers causing her to whimper. 

“Your cock,” Emma said without thinking. The word rolling off of her lips with such ease. Before she could scold herself internally for giving in so quickly, Killian had lifted them from the couch and ripped off her jeans. Her hands went to his black pants and began to undo them, though she was shaking she managed to get them down and wrap her legs around him for support until he eased them back into a sitting position. Emma’s legs went to either side of him, holding her just above his erect cock. 

Their foreheads met, eyes transfixed, breath heavy it wasn’t a full two seconds before she was pumping his cock, readying it for her. His eyes closed at last, giving into her movements. The power struggle between the two was a form of foreplay. 

“Ride me, Emma,” he moaned as she sank down onto his length, her wet heat sheathing Killian fully inside her. Allowing a few seconds for herself to adjust to his size, she began to grind against him. Feeling every inch of his throbbing member as it slid in and out. Slow at first, then rougher as they found their rhythm. 

Killian’s mouth demanding on hers, his tongue sliding in and out at the same pace of his cock. Sweat beginning to rise from both of their skin as the pace and movements quicken. Her hands toy with his hair, longer now and more unruly she decides she loves it. More to grab onto. His beard scrapes her jaw adding more sensation to her already alight body. Releasing a growl Killian pumps harder, nipping at her bottom lip as if it was his to claim. It was, if Emma was being honest. There wasn’t another man out there who knew how to play her body like a fine tuned instrument but Killian Jones certainly did. 

He leaned forward, allowing his cock to plunge even deeper inside of her and Emma screamed his name. She was fully horizontal in mid-air. Hair falling back to grace the floor. She was hanging above the ground as he kept her steady. The press of his body against hers so familiar now but still so erotic. He held her back with one hand, while the other reached for her center, massaging her clit as he continued to fuck her with reckless abandon. 

“Always so wet for me Emma,” he growled, his silky voice riling her up even more. “My darling, you’re so gorgeous. Even more so when I’m buried inside of you.” He was so vocal during sex, his words so calculated. Doing almost as much for her libido as the sex itself. 

As he spoke, her passions built, like climbing a mountain she felt herself begin to reach the peak. Emma wasn’t sure she could last much longer at this pace. 

“Killian… please…” she begged. Her legs wrapping tightly around him for better leverage. She knew he wouldn’t drop her though. No. Here in his arms she was secure. “I’m about to…”

“Fuck me dry, love,” he pulled her back up, now she had the control again. Emma in charge of the movements she quickened her pace. “That’s a good girl. Take all of me. I’m yours.” 

His hands wrapped tightly on her hips leaving what would certainly be bruises the next day. Her teeth bit at his lips drawing blood, nails scratching at his back leaving marks of her own. An animalistic need to milk him of his seed taking over as they reached their peak together. Her walls pulsing around his throbbing cock as she moaned his name over and over. 

The sensations kept them attached for what felt like hours, Emma licked the blood from his lip allowing the iron taste to coat her tongue. His hands slowly moving from her hips to her arched back to her ass and did one of his favorite things to do. Smacked her with an open palm. She groaned, loving the feel of his touch. Rough or soft she didn’t care. Either did everything for her. 

“You are a bloody siren, Emma Nolan,” her murmured against her mouth once she stopped kissing him. 

He grabbed the round globes of her ass again as if to burn his hands into the skin to fully claim her as his own. As if he hadn’t completely claimed her already. Even still she blushed, knowing she had the same effect on him. 

Her body felt ragged, used and pleasured. In the best way. But now that the sweat had dried and their activities weren’t so… strenuous she felt a shiver. And clearly Killian felt it too, because before goosebumps could even form on her skin he was removing his unbuttoned shirt and placed it around her. She relished in the smell, his smell. 

“Thank you,” she said, reaching her hand up to his mouth and gently touching the place she had bit in the heat of their passions. It would leave a mark but he didn’t seem to mind, nipping at her thumb as it rubbed his lip. 

“You looked cold… and after all, I’m always a gentleman,” he said, eyebrow going up. A mischievous smirk on his face. 

“Says the man who’s literally still inside of me,” she replied. Running her hands through the hair on his bare chest. 

“Perhaps I’m not done with you yet.” 

“I would hope not.” 

“Nevertheless, we should get you cleaned up.” He rose from the couch, unsheathing himself from inside of her. Her legs a bit wobbly and she just stood there watching as he strode away. More so checking out his ass in the black pants that hung loose from his hips than anything else.

“Where are you going?” she asked when she noticed him leaving the living room and heading toward the stairs. 

“To have a long, hot bath…” he said as he turned back to look at her. “Would you care to join me, darling?” 

She crossed her arms and stayed put near the couch, amongst her torn clothes that were scattered on the floor. Trying her best to come off nonchalant despite wearing nothing but his shirt that barely covered her ass. 

“I don’t know…” she played coy, another game, looking down at her feet and then back up at him. “I’m awfully tired, Killian.” She feigned a yawn, wanting to get a rise out of him. It was just so sexy. 

From the look on his face, he knew what she was doing, but he played along. A laugh escaping him as he sauntered over to where she stood. His whole demeanor had changed, he was domineering, close to her but not touching her. His face so near but harsh. 

“I believe I said I wasn’t done with you. Now will you be joining me or not, love?” His voice commanding, causing Emma to be aroused once again. Knowing she would cave to him at the promise of a warm bath with him. 

“Make me,” she spat. Wanting a reaction out of him that she got immediately after she spoke. His face grew even more serious. 

Without saying another word he picked her up like she weighed nothing and threw her over his shoulder. An uncharacteristic giggle coming from her mouth at how serious he had been a second ago and how silly she felt bent over his shoulder. Her legs kicking about, pretending she didn’t want to be lifted when in reality she didn’t mind. Enjoyed his playfulness. 

“If you’re going to be difficult you’ll have to suffer through the repercussions, Emma.” With that he smacked her bare ass again and she squirmed. Letting out a yelp at the sensation. He carried her in the direction of the stairs, where he had been heading before Emma faked disinterest. 

“Somehow I have a feeling those repercussions won’t be all that bad.” 

“You’ll just have to wait and see, love.” He began walking up the steps, placing a tender kiss on the reddened skin he had just smacked. Emma’s heart fluttered. Whatever he had in store for her she knew she would love. Because he was so tentative to what she wanted, all of the time, without her even having to say. He just knew. 

Hours passed as they took their time in the bubble bath, Killian making good on his promises to both pleasure and punish her. Warm water and soap and lavender oils coating their bodies as they made slow, tortuous love in the clawfoot tub of his bathroom. Again and again, riding one another into oblivion. Killian’s hands a mixture of demanding and understanding. Emma’s lips carefully trailing his body, appreciating every inch of the man that he was. By the time they finished their bath Emma’s body was heavy from all of the physical exertion. However, they managed to go another round after crawling into his bed together. Naked and damp from the bath, their limbs were slow and unhurried as they made love. It felt as though they would never get enough of each other, nor did they want to. 

After several beautiful, satisfying rounds they lay side by side in bed. Killian’s fingers drawing fake patterns in her skin as it tingled beneath his touch. Emma stroking the coarse hair of his beard and chest. Their breathing had slowed and both were on the cusp of sleep but they fought it just to stay in this happy and sated bubble for a while longer. Because at this point, their lives so intertwined with drama, who knew what the next morning would bring. 

“Yesterday when I found out about Grace… I felt so embarrassed, and disappointed. Like what kind of a fool wouldn’t realize he was being lied to for most of a relationship.” He finally spoke, his words quiet in the large space of his bedroom. 

“Hey,” she said more authoritatively than she intended, drawing all of his attention to her. “You are not a fool. You were in love.” 

“Aren’t they the same thing?” 

“No. No they’re not.” She scooted even closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Do you feel like a fool with me?” 

Their faces were close, so close and she held her breath as she waited for his response. “No, love. I do not.” 

“Good.” Relief flooded her. She picked up his hand, tracing lightly the lines of his palm before moving it to rest over her beating heart, as he had done with her not so long ago. “It’s yours now, Killian. It has been for a long time. I know it doesn’t cancel out any of the pain you’ve experienced, but I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he responded, his silky voice sounding calmer than it had before. And with that he leaned in to kiss Emma breathless, mouths meeting to prove to one another just how much they cared. Fully engulfing themselves and bracing together for whatever the next morning would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think, thanks so much for reading. AGAIN so sorry about the delay, it won't happen again. I hope that was worth it (if not there are more chapters to come so stay tuned)


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Time for anotha chapter! Took me a while (again) but hopefully you all enjoy. This update in particular is brought to you by: your continued support as readers, an entire box of cheez its, and my 90s hits playlist on REPEAT. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT 
> 
> Rating: M 
> 
> Word Count: ~9100

Emma’s limbs were like spaghetti noodles. Loose and limp from spending the night with Killian. One would assume that meant waking up the next morning she wouldn’t still have the urge to go another round but… that assumption was wrong. There was something very intimate to her about spending a morning laying naked in a bed with him. An indulgence she hadn’t allowed herself with nearly anyone else. In fact, if he were anyone else she would be scurrying to dress and leave before the other person woke. Not wanting to deal, at all, with the messiness of a morning after. But Killian wasn’t anyone else, he was him. And that was enough for her to stay. Especially after the events of the past few days. Killian’s ex-girlfriend having turned out to not be who she said she was, Emma was feeling particularly defensive of the man sleeping behind her. She had actively done almost all she could to protect him and his heart that he had so trustingly given to Emma, but there were was only so much she could do. 

There was a faint trace of light coming through the drapes over the windows, so it was some version of morning. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand it read 5:00 am. Too early. But her body was warm, thanks to the man sleeping behind her with his arm draped comfortably over her waist. Killian’s even breathing indicating he was still fast asleep. Another part of him, however, was wide awake. Digging into her bare backside she felt his hardened member up for the day. 

She had a few different routes she could take with this. Either she could lay there and (attempt to) fall quietly back to sleep until it wasn’t so early. She could wake Killian so she wasn’t just lying there by herself, painfully aware of his arousal, gaining one of her own. But then she had another idea. Excitement running through her, Emma sank down beneath the covers, sliding out of Killian’s arms slowly so as not to wake him just yet. He stirred a bit once she was fully out of his grasp but otherwise remained asleep. 

Now completely under the covers Emma took hold of Killian’s erect cock. The vein beneath her fingers, the soft feel of his flesh. Without much more delay Emma licked a stripe up the length of him. Slowly, deliberately, excitement and adrenaline fueling her as she wondered how long it would take before he woke. Swirling her tongue around the tip she felt him move a bit, still asleep, hopefully in the midst of a filthy dream about her. She often dreamt of him, though she never really told him that. Mostly because a lot of that dreaming had started occurring well before anything sexual actually happened between them in real life (i.e. the one where her subconscious had depicted him as Captain Hook, tying her up. Fucking her with his mouth and metal hand extension). 

Taking a deep breath she brought herself back to the moment, if she kept allowing her mind to wander to those places she would come before Killian did. Slowly, her mouth covered his cock, taking almost the full length. Nearly bottoming out at the back of her throat, she began moving her head up and down, her tongue drawing circles along the surface as she moved. Her lips taking in the taste of his skin, wet mouth dragging. It’s after a few seconds of this that she feels Killian’s entire body stiffen. He was awake. 

“Emma… what are you-, love...” he moaned. The sound of her name never sounding so good as it did coming from his mouth. Emma herself stiffened a bit, realizing how aroused she was as well. It only fueled her more, her mouth worked more aggressively now. Not quite so scared to wake him she wasn’t gentle, taking his cock as far into her mouth as it would go. Alternating between licking, sucking, rubbing. The more she did the shakier his legs became, giving into her touch she herself moaned and reached her hand down to take care of herself as she took care of Killian. 

His cock began to pulse, impending release near, making Emma even more aggressive. Her teeth coming out to scrape the sides of his shaft, causing his legs to convulse and his hand to tightly grip her hair. Her other hand works the dripping wet folds at her center. The affect she has on him feeding her own desires. She’s close, so is he. And within a few more movements of her tongue and mouth he’s coming. Hot, wet, salty release moving down her throat as she sucks him dry of his seed. Not long after she crests and has a euphoric orgasm, all the while keeping her mouth attached to him until he’s finished. 

When Emma emerged from underneath the covers she looked at Killian. His face a mixture of bewilderment, satisfaction, and something she’d rarely seen in a sexual partner before. Love. She gives him a smirk as she wipes his seed from the corners of her mouth with the back of her arm. And then one by one licked her fingers clean of her own release. The mix of the two in her mouth causing an interesting taste. One that she wants to share with him. His eyes never stray from her, even letting out a groan as he watches. Leaning down over top of Killian, straddling her bare body over top of his, she meets his mouth. Her tongue moving with his so he can taste as well. What they tasted like together. 

“Good morning,” she whispered against his mouth as he growled in response. 

“Now what in the world did I do to deserve that?” he mumbled, a dumb smile on his face when she pulled her head away from his just a few inches. His dark hair pushed from his head standing on all ends. There was an almost youthful glow to him in the moment and Emma couldn’t help but smile. 

“Do I really need a reason to wake you up that way?” 

“Of course not, love.” His eyes were still heavy, presumably both from just waking up and what he woke up to. “You won’t hear a complaint from me.” 

“I would hope not.” 

“Unless of course you’ve deemed that a ‘one time thing’?” His eyebrow went up expectantly. Though it certainly wasn’t a one time thing. 

She answered him by kissing him again. Simply savoring in the morning with him where she could do whatever she wanted to him. His hands reached up to cradle the sides of her face and she ached at the touch. 

“What do you like to eat, Emma?” he asked between kisses. It seemed highly off topic given the activities of a few minutes ago. She didn’t say anything for a while, her hands moving around the hair on his chest, playing with it as she continued to kiss him. 

“Besides grilled cheese and my cock?” He was so ridiculous but for whatever reason Emma completely enjoyed his flirty and sometimes obscene remarks. He was clever, she loved that about him. 

“What if that’s all I like?” she whispered against his ear, nibbling on the lobe, getting whiff of his hair. Jesus he always smelled amazing. Particularly this morning when he smelled like the lavender bath oils they had used the night before...

“Because. I meant it when I said I’d like to take you on a proper date. And I want it to be something you enjoy.”

She was stunned, pulling her face away from his to look into his blue, blue eyes. Sincerity. That was all she saw now. Well, and how handsome he was but that was a pretty consistent thing. The mention of a date, a real live adult date was intimidating. She hadn’t been on one she actually enjoyed in so long. But there was a large part of the idea that excited her. Getting to go out in public with him, sitting across a table from him, tasting each other’s entrees, sipping overpriced glasses of wine. She could picture it, and in her mind could hardly suppress the grin that came from the image. Killian seemed to release a breath, as if he still wasn’t sure if she would run or not at the mention of moving forward together. 

“I’m not picky,” she said, reaching out to touch his cheek. Savoring in the warmth of his face beneath her palm.

“Good.” He smiled back. Pulling her hand from his face and beginning to caress it with his lips. “How about Thursday night then?” 

She relished in the touch of his lips, her stomach filled with butterflies she almost forgot to answer him. 

“Thursday for what?” she groaned, obviously distracted. 

“For dinner…” he continued kissing her, licking, nipping at her skin. “And dessert.” 

“How could I say no to that?” 

“Please don’t,” he whispered, his accent thick between tongue movements. 

“Let me think about it…” she teased. And when he jokingly bit a part of her neck she let out a giggle. “Okay, okay, Thursday. A real date.” 

He stopped his nibbling to look into her eyes. Quite possibly to see if she was still toying with him. She wasn’t. It was only Monday morning, and Thursday night was so far from now. Any host of things could happen between now and then but she didn’t care about any of that. 

“After all, you are quite persuasive…” she said, biting her lip. Back to teasing. He softened, taking her chin in his hand and pulling her face toward his. 

“And devilishly handsome,” he said before diving in again to plant bites and kisses all over her body. 

They went on like that for a while. Rolling over top of each other, switching dominant positions. Taking their time playing with one another. It wasn’t long before Emma felt her core ache for him, more urgently than it kind of always was, and she clenched her thighs together to keep from getting too carried away. But when once again she found herself on top of him she kissed down the soft skin of his neck, she noticed he had stopped nipping at her and remained ultimately still. Though his hands still rested on her hips. 

“Killian… what’s…?” she began to ask pulling away from his neck, following his gaze to where it rested. The mirror. The floor length one across from the bed. Which from this angle gave a perfect view of her on top of him from behind. Her legs straddled across him, her ass bare, hair hanging down her back. He was watching her. 

“There isn’t an inch of you that I don’t find alluring, Emma,” he whispered. Still not taking his eyes off of hers in the reflection of the mirror. She blushed, knowing he was telling the truth. And that she felt exactly the same way about him. He was so verbal during sex, or even just building up to sex. It was all the more stimulating to her. 

“Why don’t we try something new…” she whispered, knowing he had his eye on that mirror. And fucking to her own reflection was something she had all but avoided her entire life. The idea of watching herself in the throes of passion not necessarily a sight she was comfortable with. But with Killian… she was open to it. And if she were able to focus on him instead of herself, maybe it wouldn’t be so odd. 

“What did you have in mind?” he asked, turning her head away from the mirror and back to face his.

“I was thinking… that I could watch you fuck me…” Emma licked her way down his chest tasting the salt and lavender on his skin. It was enticing all on its own. His chest. “In the mirror.” 

He hesitated, his breath catching in the back of his throat as Emma caught one of his nipples between her teeth and tugged. “Emma… love, are you certain that’s how you want it?”

She sat up again, trying to ignore the shake in his body as she released her mouth’s clutches on him. Emma fluttered her long lashes, cheeks and skin flushed with arousal, hair messy from both the night before and this morning, her bare center wet with desire and resting on his erect cock. She rolled her hips over him, causing his eyes to close as he winced. Emma’s eyebrow went up.. Knowing he would probably love nothing more than to fuck her as they both watched in the mirror’s reflection, knowing she loved that idea as well. 

“Do I look like I want anything else?” a dirty grin on her face lighting a fire inside Killian that she could physically see come to flames behind his eyes. Before she knew it he had flipped her off of his lap, now she was on all fours, staring at herself in the mirror. He rose to his knees behind her so she could see him as well. A predatory look on his face like he could pounce at any moment, Emma felt her arousal grow the longer she met his eyes in the mirror. 

“I’m going to take you from behind…” he said in a smooth and even voice. As if he wasn’t as affected as she was. Meanwhile she felt his already hardened cock pressed firmly against her, teasing her entrance. 

“What exactly are you waiting for?” she asked in an almost breathy tone, trying to keep calm but realizing she became more and more turned on with each passing moment. 

Without saying anything else he swatted her ass with his palm. Waves of both pleasure and pain coursing through her. It wasn’t exactly great incentive to behave if that was the punishment. A smirk was on his face as his hand moved from her ass to her slick, wet folds that were now even more so. 

“Eager for me, as always, my darling.” In slipped one finger followed quickly by another, she ground her back into his front needing more. Needing absolutely all of him to fill her. “I can hardly call myself a gentleman if I keep a woman waiting.” 

Emma let out a chuckle. Thinking of Killian right now as anywhere near a gentleman was almost comical. He had his moments of chivalry, but any of those were often canceled out by the brutal and passionate sexual encounters he and Emma engaged in. 

She was so lost in the feel of his fingers hooking inside of her, hitting the spot that would eventually be her undoing, that she didn’t realize her eyes had closed. In fact, they remained that way until Killian removed his fingers when she was just about to climax and her whole body shook with disappointment. Until the rough feel of his beard on her shoulder brought her back and she opened her eyes again to face the reflection in the mirror. 

“Remember, love, eyes open. I want you to watch,” he whispered before moving her hair to one side and taking a bite out of the back of her shoulder, rising up to his knees again. “God you’re so gorgeous like this.” He mumbled before lining himself up with her center. 

“Ohhh…” she moaned as he slid into her, he did it slowly. Tortuously, not like the night before when they had been so desperate for the friction. She looked up at his face, very serious but also there was a level of caution there. He had never taken her from behind this way, and without another word she gave him a look to indicate she was okay to continue. That she had adjusted to his size and he could keep going. She wouldn’t break. At that, his grip on her hips tightened and he eased into her, taking his time before getting into a smooth rhythm. Emma moving her body along with his in fluid motions, causing her whole body to pulse. 

“So tight like this, Emma,” he urged, quickening the pace ever so slightly the more his cock dragged against her inner walls. Emma’s back arched to keep him inside of her just a millisecond longer. 

“Killian…. so good. Please…” The closer she came to her peak the more hooded her eyes became and the more frequent she felt her lids falling. Each time though she remembered to reopen them, to look at Killian. To experience the excitement of watching as he fucked her from behind. 

“That’s it, darling. Beg,” he cooed in her ear followed by a slew of filthy promises that fell from his lips as Killian continued to grind in and out of her. With each thrust she came closer to her release, feeling herself become full with him. It was unlike anything else. To experience the throbbing heat resulting from their connection. It could only be compared to magic, the way they knew how to please each other so expertly and so intimately. Almost like they had been doing it for years as opposed to months. In another life perhaps they had been lovers in the same way, drawing the most exquisite of pleasures out of one another. 

Emma felt her limbs grow weak with exertion the closer she was to her climax. Killian must have sensed this because at the last moment he pulled her up to him and supported most of her weight. Barely keeping her eyes open, she watched as Killian held her to him, not ever losing his place inside of her, and thrusting in and out as her walls clenched around him. She could see his handsome face in the mirror, looking dangerously close to his peak as well. His eyes hooded dark with desire for her. Her confidence surged and she pushed back against him, giving them both more leverage. Their bodies coated with sweat, his breath in her ear, his name on her lips. Their breath so ragged and abrupt their brutal pace followed along with the tempo of it. 

“Emma….” he moaned. “Fall, love. I’ve got you.” 

His rough hands beneath hers tightened around her hips, they fell together. Physically and metaphorically. Emma’s heart raced as she pushed stray hair off of her face. 

In the wake of their passion, Emma could hardly contain her now shaking body. It was still so early, the sun had not even fully risen yet. But she was already thoroughly fucked. Killian’s warm body behind her felt limp as well and before Emma knew what was happening they had both collapsed to the bed. Sweat covered bodies and limbs tangled together, the two laid on the soft down comforter. 

“I can’t seem to get enough of you, love,” Killian whispered as he peppered kisses down her body. Emma’s core tensed knowing if he kept up with this they would end up going at it with minimal break time. Again. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, turning in his arms so she faced him now and his mouth ceased the kisses just to steal a glance at her. His hand moved from her waist to her hair, wrapping strands of long, blonde curls around his fingers. Weaving them in and out, all the while looking at her like she had hung the moon. 

“It’s hard to fathom that when I first came back to town I found you to be an astoundingly irritating lass.” He rolled onto his back, folding his left arm underneath his head and leaving his right arm in Emma’s hair. 

“I know,” she said, Emma had felt similarly after first being reunited with him. The dark, infuriating, uncooperative man he was. The day they fought right in front of everyone’s view in the conference room. Her blood had boiled, and in an entirely different way than it did when they spoke now. “The feeling was mutual. I couldn’t stand you.” 

“I can’t imagine why.” His eyebrow went up. He knew why. 

“In fairness the first actual encounter I had with you was when you drunkenly hit on me in a bar… I wouldn’t exactly consider that behavior to be boyfriend material.” The second she said the word she realized it had never come out before in reference to him. 

He smirked, obviously noticing the implication as well, “I see. And when exactly did that change for you?” 

The question caught her off guard. The resentment they had felt for each other at the beginning of the investigation felt so, so long ago. And to be honest now, as she was naked on his bed wrapped in his arms, it was hard to imagine a time when she didn’t feel the way she felt now. Which was enamored with affection for the complicated soul, whose hands felt like heaven running through her hair. 

“The day you took me to your father’s old car that he wrecked.” She was certain it was that time. Killian’s vulnerability coming out, his willingness to help her instead of halt her in the search. “How about you?”

He paused for a long while, the silent bedroom engulfing them. Emma thought perhaps his day was the same as hers, that he had begun feeling differently about her when he decided to show her a part of his past that had never been brought to light. Finally, he said, “That day in the book shop.” 

Emma remembered that day, but it hardly been anything overwhelmingly groundbreaking. At least not for her. They had agreed to a truce. Her mother had met Killian. The whole thing had seemed so… ordinary compared to the excitement and dramatics that had occurred in the months following that day. 

“It was the first time I thought perhaps we could get along.” He rolled back over to face her again. “Without being in that police station and the investigation and returning to a town I hated growing up, in that bookshop we just felt like two people meeting under normal circumstances.” 

His fingers moved from her hair to her face, brushing a soft touch across the flesh of her cheek. His thumb rested just below her bottom lip and he smiled ever so slightly when she eased into his touch. 

“You have to remember, darling, I’m used to being the boss. My career, I call all of the shots. I oversee hundreds of people. Having someone in charge of me, and demanding things of me, especially about such a deeply personal thing… I just didn’t take to it well.” 

They were two alphas, both used to being in some sort of control of everything. Of course they buttheads at the beginning. Until they both learned how to be around someone else as similar. 

“I know.” Emma reached out and brushed the stubble on his face. The rub of the hair massaging her fingertips and palm. “I’m not used to anyone challenging me. Especially not at work.” 

“We’re awfully stubborn.” 

“Yeah. To a fault even.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far, love. I’ve grown to find it quite attractive in you.” 

“Really?” Emma was surprised. Most men found it to be so unappealing. Hence why she ultimately kept them out of her personal life. She wasn’t willing to soften that about herself. Well… about certain things. For all intents and purposes right now Killian Jones could get her to do just about anything. 

“Really.” He smiled, a bit bashful now. Emma felt his cheeks warm underneath her lingering touch. “At a point I became so frustrated because I wanted you so badly but couldn’t have you.” 

Meanwhile she had felt the same. He could have had her at any point. 

“I got to know you, Emma. I mean really know you, which doesn’t strike me as a luxury you grant many people.” He smirked, as if remembering some encounter in his head that they had shared. “The glimpses you showed me of who you are… I selfishly wanted more.” 

“I wasn’t all that willing to share you either, Killian. You had to have known there was something…” she laughed. “That time at Target when that woman tried to pay for your groceries… I was not having it.” 

She had moved that item divider too quickly for it to pass as nonchalant. 

“Aye, love. I might have picked up on that…” He winked. “Then there was that kiss…. The time you showed up here and I felt like perhaps we would both be able to accept what was happening between us.”

Emma knew what happened next, the part of this story where she ran from him. 

“That day you were going on a date… I saw you at the police station and I could hardly keep it together. The idea of another man taking you out and enjoying your company. It drove me mad.” 

“That was when you decided to show up at my office that night.” She almost knew exactly what he had been thinking when he surprised her that night. Toying with her, teasing her, bringing her to the absolute crest of pleasure before leaving her alone on that desk. She felt her body warm just thinking of it. 

“Aye, love. I wasn’t sure you would go along with it… being as bold a move as it was. But when you did I… there was no going back for me.” 

“Had you planned that for a while?” 

“No. I mean I had thought of you. A lot. You’re an impossibly appealing woman, Emma. Even when you’re yelling at me. But at the thought of another man entering your life when I wanted to be there instead, well, I became a bit reckless.” 

“A bit?” 

“No one else has ever had this effect on me. It was something so out of character I could hardly believe myself that I went through with it… with any of this with you.” His face still looked overwhelmed, like he couldn’t fathom that they were even lying here together. Naked. On his bed. 

“I know the feeling, Killian. I’ve never known anyone like you.” She could hardly believe they were in this position as well. However, it was real. She could feel his warm body pressed to hers. His fingers, moving through her long hair. His breath was so near to her face. The evidence of their most recent act of debauchery drying on the insides of her thighs. 

“Quite the pair, aren’t we?” 

She stilled a bit, at the mention of them being a pair. Were they a pair? Were they exclusive? Where was this going? Did it matter? Should she have him make a Powerpoint presentation? Her mind asked a thousand questions. And apparently it was all over her face because with the utmost of care Killian took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. 

“Emma you have to know, unless you aren’t already aware and I haven’t been clear enough, it’s only you that I’ve been with for a while.” His thumb stroked just beneath her lip. “Exclusively you, darling.” 

She was a little surprised still that he read her so well. But really was it actually that surprising at all? “I haven’t been with anyone but you since… well since you came back to Storybrooke.” 

Emma was a little embarrassed to admit it, seeing as how for the first few weeks he was here the two weren’t even on great speaking terms. But it was still nice to know he hadn’t been with anyone either. As fucking gorgeous as Killian was, it had been only her. “I was with Henry’s father for a long time, and then no one else really stood out to me after that. Until you. And anyone in between… it was simply physical.” 

Killian smiled before leaning over to press a soft kiss to Emma’s lips. If for no other reason than the simple fact that they could. 

“With you though, Killian it’s more than physical. It’s… chemical....”she said as he tugged Emma’s body even closer to his as the kiss grew deeper and his tongue parted the gap in her lips. The tingle reaffirming what she already knew.

“How much longer do I have with you?” Killian mumbled against her mouth. It was a good question, and for a second Emma wasn’t sure whether he was talking about this morning or forever. She decided he was most likely referring to the former but the latter was a discussion that would have to come at some point.

“Relax, it’s only 6 am.” Emma’s lips moved down to his neck, one of her favorite places on his body to kiss. Feeling the pulsing vein beneath her mouth quicken at her touch. 

“It’s hard to relax, love, when you’re using your mouth like that.” His body was tense as she moved around him. Memorizing every mark on his skin, the feel of his arms on her waist, the way his lip twitched slightly before he smiled. 

Emma crawled on top of him, it was beginning to be a hobby of hers, ready to get lost with him again when her phone rang. 

“Christ…” Killian said as his hands stopped their movements along Emma’s bare body. Her head fell into his chest. Knowing she had to get up and answer. 

“I’ve got to get that,” she muttered, extremely unhappy to have to tear herself away from the task at hand (well… mouth).

“I wagered.” Killian stared straight up at the ceiling. Eyes closed, attempting to cool himself off. 

When Emma crossed the room and reached her phone the caller ID said it was her father. Her heart sank a little, knowing he probably wouldn’t call this early on a Monday morning if it wasn’t something work related. 

“Hello?” she said, swiping to answer. A knot in her stomach. 

“Em, I need you to come down to the station as soon as you can… it’s urgent.” Her dad sounded highly on edge. Knowing he wasn’t an alarmist she became more concerned. What could it possibly be that warranted this kind of reaction from David Nolan. “It’s Gold, Emma. He escaped his holding cell last night.” 

“What? How?” Emma was a bit floored, hearing horror stories of escaped prisoners on the news before but never having actually experienced it. This man was dangerous, and he had slipped through their clutches. 

“Just come down to the station. I’m about to bring everyone in for a briefing before we get to work on catching him. He couldn’t have gotten far, all of the town’s borders have been secured.” 

“But time is of the essence.” Emma nibbled on her lip, anxious to get Gold back where he was best (behind fucking bars). “I’ll be down there as soon as I can. I’ve got to call mom and have her pick up Henry though.” 

“Alright. See you soon.” David quickly hung up the phone, sounding just about as nervous as Emma was. Then she looked across the room to where Killian had stood and began dressing himself to take his dog out. He already knew she had to leave. Time was something that was just rarely on their side. 

“I have to go,” Emma said, all urgency leaving her body when she realized she had to interrupt their morning. It was an odd feeling, one that was completely unfamiliar to her. A longing to just stay put and to savor in the excitement of wasting time with someone. “Duty calls.” 

“Everything alright, love?” Killian looked concerned, approaching her as if she were made of crystal. 

“Yeah, fine. Just something came up at work. I need to go in early.”

“Is there anything I can do?” Killian’s eyes sparkled with concern. She was so used to just telling him everything, that leaving him in the dark felt almost… wrong. Emma thought of all they had overcome thus far in such early stages of their relationship and decided it would be okay to tell him. The town would have to be notified anyway that there was a wanted criminal running around.

“Just, lay low for today. Gold is… well he’s gone. Apparently escaped last night. I don’t know much more. It will get out eventually but just keep quiet for now and I’ll tell you more as I can.” She hoped he would understand, wouldn’t judge her harshly for the lack of elaboration. 

“Alright, Emma,” he said gently, tucking her hair behind her ear. She could tell he wanted to say more. Probably overwhelmingly concerned that she was now leaving his company to go on a man hunt for the person responsible for his parents’ death. Her whole being ached and she wished she could stay. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Sometimes I find myself so happy with you that I forget the circumstances we’re under.”

“I know what you mean.” And she did, it was so easy to forget when they were in their love bubble. “I’ll do everything I can to help you and Liam have a bit of peace with this. If that’s even possible to do..” 

“I thought about hiring a private investigator… so many times in those twenty years. But the way everything was so botched the first time around with the case I was too scared. But then the prospect of answers became scarier than not knowing so I used to think I would never have closure with it. But you’ve done so much, Emma.” 

“I didn’t do it alone, you know.” She remembered all of the times he had offered his help, and he would do it again right now she was sure of it. But the fact was, Gold was out there (so was his ex-wife) and the less Killian was directly involved the better. She smiled up at him, doing her best to silently reassure him that she would be okay. But he still looked wary. 

“It’s not something I’m used to…” he said after a few quiet seconds. His arms were loosely wrapped around her naked body as they stood there. Too stubborn to let go of each other. 

“What?” 

“Normally I’m the one that has to leave abruptly in the morning for work.” He chuckled. 

“Does it make you feel cheap?” she joked. 

“Aye, a bit.” He smiled, and she wished it was a permanent fixture on his face. Not that the cranky, brooding smolder he had trademarked wasn’t attractive. It was just nice when he laughed. 

“Well, hopefully soon this won’t have to happen anymore.” 

Emma pulled out of his grasp and began to dress herself. She knew if she continued to stand within their orbit she would get too distracted, and right now she needed to focus. Gold was gone, Milah was Grace, and they still didn’t nail down the person who had been sending the clues. Somehow those two had to be connected, she knew it was too crazy to be a coincidence that the same woman who had been married to Gold ended up dating Killian for several YEARS. However, Emma lost her focus after she had put her underwear, jeans, bra, and shoes back on to realize that the tank top she had worn over to Killian’s last night was ripped to shreds from their passionate encounter. 

“Um… Killian…” She held up the material, torn and unwearable. Doing her best to look pissed off but actually a bit flushed thinking of how it had come to be ripped. “I’m going to need to borrow a shirt.” 

He smirked, and walked over to his closet which was lined with suits and dress shirts and business attire. She had never met a man who had more clothes than Killian. 

“I appreciate the look of disgust, darling, but I don’t recall you being this displeased when that scrap of fabric was being torn from your body last night.” He didn’t even look back at her as he carded through the rows of dress shirts. Eventually he selected a plain, light blue shirt that matched his eyes and probably looked gorgeous on him. Emma held it up to her, it was a tad bit long but it might fit her enough. 

“It’ll have to do I suppose,” she said as she took it from the hanger and began to slip it on. “Since a wild animal decided to destroy my shirt.” She locked eyes with him as she buttoned the front. 

Killian stepped close to her, taking over the task and slowly slipping each button into it’s slot without losing her gaze. When he finished, he straightened the collar, and bent down to place a kiss on her lips, then her cheek, then her neck before reaching her ear to whisper, “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.” 

Emma shivered, at the mere mention of him taking her again in such a heated way. Why couldn’t she just stay kept in his bed all day? Engaging in all kinds of… activities. No responsibilities beyond making each other come. But her life wasn’t that simple, and neither was his. So while she wished she could allow him to make good on his promise to rip her clothes off again, she knew she had a job to do. 

“I have to go,” she moaned, pulling her neck away from his lips so she could just focus on the pools of his eyes. Which probably was not any less distracting. 

“Be safe. If anything happens to you, I don’t know that I… you’re so good at your job and you’re perfectly fit to take care of yourself but just don’t forget about the people on the other side who love you.” 

“Oh? And who would that be?” 

“Your son… your parents…”

“You,” she whispered before planting an all too quick kiss on his lips.The mood turning serious from playful, yet again. 

“Ah yes, I fall into that category of people as well, my love,” he whispered back, “Just… come back to me, Emma. In one piece.” 

“Of course,” she said as his lips were on hers one last time, desperate. But quick. And he pulled away reluctantly. To let her go. 

 

When Emma arrived at the station, it had only been about half an hour since her father had called to alert her of Gold’s escape but it had felt like an eternity. Leaving Killian’s hotel felt more painful than it should have, given the freshness of their romance but everything with them seemed to break all expectation of what a normal relationship was.

She had called Mary Margaret from the car, telling her mother to pick up Henry from his friend’s house when he awoke. After all, it was barely seven in the morning on summer vacation. He wouldn’t be awake for quite some time. And Emma didn’t know when she would be available to leave her job. Neal was all but exempt from the investigation at this point but it would hardly be wise to put Henry in the care of his father when Gold was on the loose. Extra security from Boston was currently on the way to Storybrooke to guard Neal’s apartment just in case his father tried anything stupid. If Emma had to guess though, now that Gold had gotten out of police custody he would certainly take every opportunity to leave town. 

The office was abuzz with activity. All hands were on deck. The main room smelling like a mixture of coffee and stress, a scent Emma was entirely too familiar with at this point in her life. 

“Em, you’re here, great.” David greeted her when she walked in, handing her a warm to-go cup of coffee. If he noticed the shirt on her back was a man’s he said absolutely nothing about it. Thank the Lord. “We’re meeting in a few minutes to lay out the game plan. First search team has already been dispatched.” 

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” she was back in cop mode. It happened almost instantly when she knew an important task at her job needed to be completed. 

“Just get ready to meet with the team. Grab all of your resources. Pull some ideas together to brainstorm. I’ve got a few, Graham and the Boston team do as well. We need all the points of view we have.” 

“Got it,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and making her way to her desk. David was off in a flash, presumably to alert everyone to be in the conference room as soon as possible. Emma was gathering some files she had stuffed in her desk, trying to determine the best plan of action but halted when she felt she was being watched. 

Looking up from her mess of a desk she realized she was right. Ruby stood a few feet from her, an interesting smile on her best friend’s face. 

“What?” Emma asked, curious to see where this was going. 

“You know, women’s shirts have the buttons on the left side…” Ruby smirked. 

Emma looked down at Killian’s shirt she was wearing. She had tucked it into her jeans so that it wouldn’t look like the shirt was as big on her as The buttons, indeed, on the right side. The sleeves were also cuffed revealing Killian’s embroidered initials on the interior of the fabric. He was such a diva. Emma rolled her eyes, half because of her curious friend and half because she would have to tease Killian about his labeled dress shirt cuffs later. Or whenever she saw him next… 

“How is he taking all of this? First his parents then his ex turns out to be a liar. The poor guy,” Ruby asked. Not even bothering to dive further into the fact that Emma was sleeping with Killian but also sleeping AT Killian’s. 

“He’s… okay. A bit worried that Gold’s out again, but that’s to be expected.” Emma’s heart tugged. The look of worry on his face she saw as she left his penthouse. The amount of lies and deception he had been fed his whole life she could hardly believe he was this trusting of her but he was. All the more reason she didn’t want to keep things from him. She must have been making a face at the thought of her morning because whatever it was Ruby picked up on her softened demeanor.

“Who would have guessed, Killian Jones would be the first guy to get you to make an actual commitment,” Ruby said. As annoyed as Emma was that this was the topic of conversation, it was hard to be annoyed with Ruby. Someone who had been by her side for as long as she could remember. 

“Literally you, Ruby!” Emma remembered even before she herself knew she was interested in Killian her best friend had called her out on it. “You guessed it the whole time!” 

“I did, didn’t I?” A look of pride came across Ruby’s face. They had caught up briefly on Saturday night. Watching movies and eating junk food with Henry. Ruby was, for the first time in a long time, in a very healthy and stable relationship. And the proof was all over the brunette’s face as she just seemed lighter. Happier. To finally have found someone who brought out the best in her as opposed to the worst. 

“Ruby, Emma, conference room.” They were interrupted by the sound of Graham’s voice. Everyone was making their way into the conference room for the meeting. 

 

The meeting was brief but effective. Gold was on the loose and they needed to catch him, plain and simple. Apparently during the changing of security last night was when he escaped from his holding cell. Via the use of a bent paper clip that had been hidden (somewhere on his person?). It was a grave mistake on the part of all of the officers involved. Ever since the discovery of Gold as the killer, the team had definitely softened. The idea that he was already caught so their jobs were mostly done allowing him to slip through the cracks. Emma herself was guilty of losing involvement. But right now she had to hunt for Gold. By the time she left the office the news of Gold’s escape had broken, she had to fight past all of the local news and reporters to get to her car. 

Emma was beginning to see herself with Killian more and more with each passing day. And as exciting yet terrifying as that was she knew they would never truly be able to continue, he would never truly be able to heal, if his past wasn’t first taken care of. If there was no closure on the demons that had plagued he and his family for so long, Killian and Liam would never know justice to be reached for their parents. Then there was Neal, who had lost so much as well. First his mother when he was just a boy and now his father had turned out to have done such terrible things. Neal needed closure on the case as well. And if Emma was able to find Milah, and her connection to this saga, then maybe Neal could have peace answers to why his mother left him. Because Emma had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to Milah leaving than she knew. Then there was Henry who had, all his life, known nothing but kindness and harmony amongst all of the branches of his family who was now realizing that his grandfather was in no way a good man. 

After the meeting the whole team was put to action. The perimeter of the town completely secured, as well as the shipping ports that led to the town. A census of all residents and ships was taken by local government. Helicopters flew above the normally quiet town in an effort to see if Gold had taken to hiding in the woods. Yellow caution tape decorated the normally all-green summer landscape. Time was so important, especially the first twelve hours when they had daylight on their side. Midday Emma had called Henry to check in, telling him she was alright and to stay with Mary Margaret until they caught Gold. By now it was out that he had gone missing, and a panic had come over the town. Worried for everyone’s safety Emma and her team did their absolute best to utilize their time. 

But by nightfall no progress had been made despite the relentless search. Gold was as good as gone. Emma’s feet tired she and a few others headed back to the station to regroup and make an alternate plan for nightfall. 

“I think we need to send people to Belle’s. Extra security in case Gold tries anything there,” Emma spoke up at the meeting. She had ulterior motives for the suggestion but that wasn’t important to disclose to everyone just yet. 

David agreed. Looking at Emma expectantly for further suggestion. 

“I can go,” she offered. “I’ll take Ruby. Give us one squad car.” 

Ruby looked at Emma like she was crazy. But Emma would explain once they were underway. 

“Em, we can send more than just one. There’s a few over there undercover right now for surveillance.” Graham looked skeptical, but didn’t push too hard. 

“Listen, we don’t want an overwhelming police presence there. It isn’t necessary, send them home for rest. But we do need to have a few officers present at Gold’s old home to make sure Belle isn’t behind the liberation of her husband. And I think I’m pretty good at deciphering whether or not someone’s lying to me.” 

 

After a lot more convincing, Emma and Ruby were in the squad car on their way over to Belle’s house. It had been under pseudo-house arrest (undercover squad cars a few hundred feet away) for some time now but nothing had come up that indicated Belle in anyway knew what her husband had been up to nearly 15 years before they even met. But that didn’t stop Emma from having her suspicions. Recalling the day they had found the murder weapon and arrested Gold. The discovery of the dagger coming almost entirely from Belle’s subtle suggestion. Ruby had been the only other person in the room with Emma and Belle that day. Therefore Emma thought her best to drag along. 

On the way over Emma called Killian, part wanting to tell him Gold was still missing, part wanting to just hear his voice. But she would never admit that, even when Ruby gave her a knowing look from the passenger seat. Despite trying to keep the conversation as low key as possible, Emma still became a little sad when she had to hang up. But the subtle, “Call when you can and be safe, my love.” He said before hanging up gave her butterflies, motivating her to keep going. 

“Emma would you mind telling me what in the world has gotten into you?” Ruby asked shortly after Emma hung up the phone and refocused on driving the squad car toward Belle’s house. 

“I think Belle knew what Gold did to the Jones’,” Emma said matter of factly. 

“And you think it’s urgent to handle this now because…?” 

“She’s the key to finding Gold. Just like she was the key to proving he did the murder in the first place.” 

Ruby crinkled her brow trying to decipher what Emma was getting at. 

“Belle’s a smart girl, you and I both know that. If she was the one sending the clues and if she knew what her husband had done then she most certainly had all of her research together before she did something this bold. I’m not saying she helped him escape…. I know she wants him locked up. So I think we can get her to talk.” 

“Emma that’s crazy! You’re going on blind intuition.” Ruby yelled as they pulled up the driveway to Belle’s house. The wind stilling to provide quiet surroundings. The only sound now was the crunch of Emma’s feet on the walkway. 

“Is it that crazy? Isn’t that what’s gotten us this far in the first place? My ‘blind’ intuition.” 

“You know it is.” 

“Yet here you are, doubting me.” 

“I never said that,” Ruby reached out to knock on the heavy wooden door. Not sure why they were even doing the courtesy of knocking. They could very well just barge in. But Emma didn’t want Belle to think they were against her, Emma knew she could reason with her if she approached this just right… 

“You also didn’t run away when I told you.” 

“She’s not going to tell us anything, Emma. We’re cops!” 

“Belle’s logical. I feel like if we reason enough with her, she’ll be smart about giving us an answer.” 

As the front door opened Emma caught sight of Belle for the first time in a long time. The pretty and quiet research analyst who she had worked with nearly every day looked exhausted. Bags under her eyes. No makeup on. Dark hair piled on top of her head in a pony tail. She was beautiful, but sad. The same way Killian had been when she met him. Emma felt bad about ambushing her this way, about such a sensitive thing. But it was her job and to her core Emma believed Belle would provide far more for them in finding Gold than sitting in a hidden squad car in the woods all night would. 

“Belle…” Ruby started, all three women standing here were not that different in age. It was sad. The thought that the person Belle had once loved turned out to be such a monster. 

“I already told the officers earlier I have no idea where he went.” She sounded tired. Exhausted, not necessarily physically (she had stayed mostly locked up in this house avoiding society since Gold’s arrest) but emotionally. 

“We’re here to help, Belle.” Emma offered. Though as the quiet settled over the three women Emma heard the snap of a twig a few feet from her and perked up immediately. “What was that?” 

“What?” Ruby and Belle both asked, not recognizing the sound Emma had definitely heard. 

“Go inside I’ll be right back.” Emma said authoritatively, locking eyes with Ruby and telling her not to question her. 

Once Emma heard the front door close, she slowly made her way down the porch steps and into the grass. Careful not to step on any stray branches. Like whomever was lurking around this house had just made the mistake of doing. She slowly moved around the bend, the surroundings too dark for her to tell exactly what was in front of her. Until her eyes adjusted and took advantage of the soft light coming from an upstairs window of Belle’s house. A figure was about 200 feet ahead of her in the dark. Hooded. Wearing all black, with a slight limp. Gold. 

Un-fucking-believable. Emma took off after Gold, sprinting as fast as her legs allowed while he just ran faster and faster. The open field next to his old house providing a clear view of the back of the hood. Emma pushed harder trying to catch Gold, knowing she could. He didn’t have his cane and probably couldn’t sustain this pace for long. So she surged, taking in stride the extra few feet. She was within grasp of him now, her heart racing, pulse about to explode from within her chest. Emma’s breath ragged, she could grab his hood if she were just a foot closer. Whatever powerful source from within her took action and gave her the extra push she needed and Emma closed the gap. Tripping as she did to fall on top of Gold’s body and collapse into the field. 

Emma heaved, pushing any breath out she could to calm the pounding in her chest as she secured herself on top of him, grabbing his arms to pin them to the ground beneath. But when the hooded figure turned their face toward Emma and her eyes focused on the person she had tackled to the ground she realized it wasn’t Gold she was on top of. No, it wasn’t a man at all. In fact, it was a woman. The face now so familiar to her, Emma could have sworn they met before. 

“Milah.” Emma gasped. It wasn’t a question, there was no question about it. Emma knew who this woman was despite having never really encountered her before. Looking down at the wild haired, brown-eyed woman who had left Neal motherless and broken Killian’s heart all within one lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of right now I have this thing laid out to be 25 chapters, so about 5 updates left!!! Keep reading and commenting and saying hello cause I love to hear things. I appreciate all of the support (always, always).


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I KNOW IT HAS BEEN A WHILE SINCE I POSTED. So let me just apologize for that. I'm so sorry. I was having a lot of trouble focusing and writing and it took me forever to figure out which way to take this but I'm definitely more confident in my direction. I didn't want to post anything I was wishy-washy about. Thank you for your patience and support. Please leave feedback or kudos or whatever, I love hearing from people. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing all rights to OUAT 
> 
> Rating: M 
> 
> Word Count: ~9000

**Emma’s POV: Monday Night, 8:15 pm**

“Milah,” Emma gasped. The woman she had pinned beneath her to the grassy ground was someone she had barely met before, but had the common threads of several circumstances, several people connecting them. But then the brown eyed woman looked up at her and Emma realized Milah probably had no idea who she was. “Or are you going by Grace again?” 

The two women stayed quiet for a moment, the only sound coming from either of them being their ragged breathing from the chase. Even in the fading light of the evening, Emma could make out most of Milah’s features. After a few minutes Emma couldn’t swallow her words any longer. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” she asked, trying to sound objective, like a cop (well not really trying that hard actually). It came out harsh. 

“How do you know who I am?” the woman asked, her jaw tightening and her opposing glare at Emma solidifying. 

“I’m a cop. It’s my job,” Emma spat back. 

What had gotten into her? She was never the type to be deliberately nasty to someone. Before she continued to speak, she reigned herself in, realizing that her reasons for being tough on Milah were personal. They could be directly linked to Neal’s long-felt abandonment from his mother. And more recently the tumult she had caused in Killian’s life. Killian. She had only just hung up the phone with him minutes ago to tell him she was on her way here. He had once loved this woman that Emma was now directing all of her hostility toward. Gulping down a stream of inappropriate sentences she opted for something more civil. “I’m going to need to escort you back to the house.” 

Milah seemed to take the cue and her body softened a bit as well underneath Emma’s grasp. There was a brief flash of understanding in Milah’s eyes before she put her guard back up again. 

“Is there a problem?” the brunette asked. 

“There are many problems right now and the most pressing of which involves a proven murderer on the loose who you used to be married to.” 

Emma began to rise from the ground and lock Milah’s wrists in the handcuffs, careful not to let the woman slip from her grasp. Though she didn’t look like she was about to sprint off into the night it was hard to tell just what this woman was capable of. Emma caught herself peeking down at Milah’s wrists to see if she had a tattoo that matched Killian’s. She didn’t. And Emma released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

Putting Milah in front of her Emma began to urge them toward the house, lit dimly far off in the distance. She hadn’t realized just how far she had chased Milah, everything happening so quickly that she could have sworn it was only for about 30 seconds. But Milah was limping, which explained why Emma mistook her for Gold. 

“Is your leg alright?” Emma asked. Not sure why she was even concerned. The task at hand was simple, get Milah back to the house, find out what her role in all this was. There was no need for small talk. No need for pleasantries. 

“It caught on a tree root when I ran from the house…” Milah said warily. Even in the ill-lit path back Emma could tell she made the woman anxious. There was no way she could possibly know Emma’s affiliation with Killian, she may not even know her past with Neal either. Having been gone for so long, Neal not accepting her attempts to reach out in recent years. 

“You can put ice on it when we get inside.”

 

**Killian’s POV: Monday Night, 8:20 pm**

Despite the circumstances, Killian Jones found the balcony of his rented hotel room just outside of Storybrooke, Maine to be one of his new favorite places. Often taking advantage of the private outdoor space to think. To ponder the world’s problems. To work on his laptop in near silence. To sit alongside his dog and take in the quiet evenings. 

Which was why he was out here now, in the remaining light from the day, absentmindedly leafing through papers with his dog on the chaise lounge curled against his outstretched leg. His attempt to have a productive work day was in vain. Knowing that somewhere, not far, Emma was hunting down the man responsible for the death of his parents. To say he was worried about her would be a complete understatement. 

He had gotten off the phone with her not even twenty minutes ago but now as night began to fall, he wished she was here with him as she had been the night before. He looked up from his paperwork, shivering at the thought of their night together. And when he closed his eyes he could almost picture Emma sitting between his legs instead of a growing stack of proposals and invoices.

_The steam rose from the surface of the water that filled the tub, a soft scent of lavender from the bath oils. Emma laid her back against Killian’s bare chest. His hands resting over top of hers on her stomach. He pressed gentle kisses to the bare skin of her shoulder, the exposed space behind her ear, the top of her head. Anywhere he could get his lips on without disturbing her. Their bodies sated from another round of love making in the warm bath water. Her breathing slowed and for a second Killian wondered if she had fallen asleep._

_“What’s the best memory you have of being a child?” she asked. He felt himself stiffen a bit but then relaxed. A loaded question that normally would have terrified him. But there was something about Emma that allowed him the comfort of opening up. He paused for a while, searching through all of the bad memories for one that was good._

_“My mother was happiest when she was creating things.” He recalled all of the projects she used to take on. A creative soul that always turned toward art. “Most of the paintings in our home were done by her. Sometimes she would write little poems to go along with them.”_

_Emma spun in his arms to face him. Her eyes filled with curiosity. And he once again felt more at ease talking._

_“When I was very little she would make up stories to tell me that went with her drawings. Wild tales of adventure and intrigue. She could come up with anything on the spot. Liam and I used to stay awake listening to her for hours,” he felt himself choke up a little. Knowing she had been going through so much at the time but choosing instead to treat Killian and Liam as though they were the kings of the castle._

_Emma smiled at him and rested her hand on his cheek. The skin of her fingers beginning to wrinkle from their long stay in the tub. She didn’t say anything but her expression did everything to reassure him. With her it never felt like she was luring information. She simply wanted to get to know him, and he with her. Killian often caught himself wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to have met someone as incredible as Emma Nolan. And this was one of those (many, many) times._

When he snapped out of last night’s memory he was disappointed to find that he was still on the chaise lounge with his snoring dog. He stood from his seat, slowly moving his leg so as not to wake Princess and walked to the balcony railing. In his hand was lukewarm cup of tea, his third cup, that he now sipped just to give him something to do. That was all he had spent the day in search of. Something to do that was distracting enough to take his mind off of Emma chasing down the man who had murdered his parents. 

There was no doubt in Killian’s mind that Gold was still a monster who wouldn’t hesitate to attack again if he felt it meant remaining in prison. How does one even escape a holding cell anymore? It wasn’t the 1600s. There were security cameras and armed guards. How does one man evade all of the hurdles? And if he’s capable of that then he certainly was a desperate man. 

He hoped she would catch Gold and then this spiderweb of stress that formed in the pit of his stomach would resolve itself. Though as the time ticked by, Killian realized the hunt for Gold was most likely not an easy one and would obviously be rather extensive. 

A breeze swept by, tickling Killian’s skin as he stared down from his balcony at the surrounding land. Imagining Emma safely by his side, her golden hair blowing the light summer breeze. Her easy smile calming his nerves. Her warm soul keeping him grounded on what was now important in his life. As it somehow had regained a purpose other than 80 hour work weeks and conference calls and paperwork. He had done a good amount while in Storybrooke. But he wasn’t nearly as invested in it anymore. And it wasn’t entirely because of the entrance of a certain deputy sheriff to his life, but she certainly helped. Emma Nolan was someone who made him see a life beyond his work, the prospect of taking a trip that wasn’t job related, the thought of spending a quiet evening at home, a Saturday morning in bed, Sunday evening dinners with Liam and his wife, getting to know his new niece or nephew as they grew, perhaps a life and family of his own. 

But now he stood here worried sick about her safety, and all he could do was pace. Was it easier to have no one and be isolated from personal relationships than it was to deal with them? 

Somewhere along the building of his tense mood, Princess had even gone back in the hotel room, presumably annoyed by how on edge Killian was. He rarely actually worried about people, for their safety, most of his life he hadn’t had someone to care that much for. Save for a few. And one of which, it turned out, had been lying to him the whole time. 

Grace. Milah Gold. Whomever. 

When he had found out that the woman he spent years loving, years building a life with, had betrayed him in such a way his brain could hardly process it. It’s one thing to lie about who you are, it was another to have that person once be married to the man who had murdered his parents. It was simply too coincidental for Killian to not think the worst. That it was all a sick ploy. But then his heart spoke, and told him that perhaps there was another side to things that he wasn’t seeing. The whole situation was highly complicated, and it broke him further every time he felt himself thinking about his ex-girlfriend. He could run in circles for days trying to figure it out but he knew that the only person who had all of the answers was Grace. 

As time had gone on he realized, the answers didn’t so much matter anymore. Because his past was his past, it was a part of him. However, his future was clear. There was one woman he could truly see himself with for the rest of his life. And that woman was without a doubt Emma. 

 

**Emma’s POV: Monday Night, 8:25 pm**

Once they finally reached the house, Emma opted to take Milah through the front door. But it was locked, so she rang the doorbell with her goddamn elbow while still holding onto Milah’s arm as tightly as she could. Under the light of the porch Emma got a decent look at Milah, a pretty woman, clearly older than she. With curly almost black hair and an angular face that was both striking and attractive. Assuming she was probably nearing 60 years old at this point, she looked incredible. For her age and for… well for any age. It was easy to see why Killian had been drawn to her. Though Emma had never been a jealous person, there was a small part of her that was intimidated by Milah. But then she remembered the night before, the time she had spent with Killian and let her mind wander.

_After they had spent more than enough time soaking in the large bathtub in Killian’s suite, the two fell into bed together. Not even bothering to dry off or put clothes on before engaging in a long, slow round of making love to one another. This time bathed only in moonlight from the open windows of his bedroom._

_In the wake of their passions they laid together, just staring into each other’s eyes. Emma had never felt like this with anyone before. She couldn’t remember a time she had ever been swept off of her feet by any man. He must have picked up on it because soon his hand reached out to brush her face._

_“What are you thinking about, love?” he asked in that gorgeous voice of his. His blue eyes catching the briefest twinkle from the moonlight._

_“You,” she said before she could think of something more vague. She didn’t feel the need to put up that veil with him._

_“Ah, and what is it about me that’s running through your head?” Great. Just what he needed. More of an ego boost._

_“I’ve just never been so happy with someone.” It was the truth, and at first it was scary, but now that she was embracing it she felt lighter. She reached up and grabbed his hand that still rested on her face._

_“Aye, love. Me too,” he whispered, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips and tugging her body into his chest. “You’re the most incredible person I’ve ever known, darling.”_

_He was warm, and familiar but not in a bad way. In a way that made her realize, she would miss this if he went back to London. It made her realize that she wanted a future with him. And it made her realize that if she believed in soul mates (which she didn’t) that he would be hers._

Emma was distracted from her train of mushy thoughts when the front door began to open and she caught Milah looking down at her hand that was wrapped around the brunette’s arm. Her body sighed when she remembered she wasn’t in bed with Killian. She was face to face with his ex-girlfriend. 

“Is there a problem?” Emma asked Milah, back to being angry with her. For no reason. Well for a lot of reasons but none that the woman was aware of. 

“No.” 

“Emma?” Ruby asked as she cautiously opened the door. 

“Found someone outside…” Emma didn’t so much have to haul Milah into the house because the woman willingly went. Wait a minute, was she comfortable walking in here? Emma looked to Belle, who stood several steps into the foyer. Eyes blown wide. From shock or recognition Emma wasn’t sure, but something was definitely up. 

“Is this….?” Ruby started.

“Yeah,” Emma mumbled before her best friend could finish. 

“What do we do with her?” 

“Find out all we can. Grab some ice for her ankle. We’ll go to the library.” 

With her arm on Milah’s, following this illusive woman from behind, Emma and the others headed into a room she knew there weren’t a lot of alternative exits to. The library. A few windows lined the walls but they were all visible from Emma’s standpoint. She wasn’t leaving until she had a solution about why in the world Milah was lurking around outside and why Belle looked like a deer in the headlights right now. 

Inside the library Emma had Ruby draw the blinds as she escorted Belle to a couch opposite Milah. And Milah was taken to the chair with a wooden arm Emma could lock her wrist around with one side of the handcuffs. 

And again Emma caught Milah who, for whatever reason fixed her eyes on different parts of Emma’s arm as it locked the handcuffs on her wrist into place. 

“Is he happy?” Milah whispered so low only Emma was able to hear. 

“What?” Did she mean her son, Neal? Did Neal ever tell her about she and Henry? “Neal’s alright, as much as he can be. A lot has been happening in his life as of late but he and Henry…”

Milah’s brow crinkled, almost confused. “Neal, how do you know my son?” 

“I-uh…” 

“Killian…I was um, referring to him. That’s how you knew to call me Grace,” Milah said a bit louder, eye level with Emma who was knelt in front of her attempting to pretend she should still be in that position. “That is his shirt, correct?” 

Emma’s eyes widened and she looked down at her arm where the sleeves of Killian’s shirt had been rolled. And where his initials were embroidered. That was why Milah had been staring at Emma’s arm. She had slipped it on this morning, since he had ripped her shirt the night before. She tried not to blush thinking of the memory of them so desperate to have each other they forgot all manners and decencies. She never thought that anyone would notice she was wearing his shirt. But of course, as luck would have it, like 5 people today had. 

“But then what do you know about my son?” Milah’s voice was a bit more authoritative now, less soft and easy going than it had been when she first talked to Emma. Ruby and Belle had now clearly heard the nature of the conversation. For whatever reason Emma became nervous, standing from her spot. Even though she wasn’t the one in handcuffs, for a second she felt she had lost the upper hand. 

“Neal and Emma were together for a long time…” Belle chimed in. Her soft voice coming from the couch opposite where Milah sat. “They have a son, Henry.” 

“I have a grandson…?” 

Emma nodded and begrudgingly looked back at Milah, whose eyes had only gotten wider. Though Emma knew the woman had no right to be angry, she could still think it was weird. Because it was weird. It was a completely odd situation. 

“So you’ve been with my ex-boyfriend and my son?” 

Emma grabbed at the sleeve of Killian’s shirt. Trying to cling to any of his scent that was leftover in the fabric. Wishing she was with him, wrapped in his arms with this whole case behind them, instead of where she was. Though normally, Emma was relatively confident in herself she felt like curling into a blanket right now. Preferably with Killian, the man she had fallen in love with. 

“I... uh.… yeah… um…” Emma didn’t really have a clever, quick-witted response. 

“I think we’re here to figure out more important things, so just put a pin in this for a while, you two, okay?” Ruby offered. Emma’s chest untightened a bit at her best friend’s suggestion to focus on why they were actually here and she gave the brunette the most gracious smile she could muster. 

 

**Killian’s POV: Monday Night, 8:45 pm**

Since Emma left his hotel earlier that morning, Killian hadn’t stopped worrying about her. As silly as he knew it was, still his gut persisted. She had left him to chase down an escaped murderer, the very desperate man who had killed his own parents. 

Killian himself was feeling desperation as he looked on at the space in the bed where the sheets were still tangled from his morning (and night) with Emma. If he laid down, it would no longer have the warmth of her body as she had left hours ago but her imprint was still there. He felt like a fool sitting across his bedroom staring at the sheets instead of doing something. He wasn’t helping. Emma was the one out in the world apprehending his parents’ killer. She was such an extraordinary woman.

“Little brother!” Killian heard the familiar, and at this moment, irritating sound of Liam’s voice from the downstairs. 

Killian rolled his eyes. Now that he was in America he had been spending more time with Liam than he had in years. And while it was nice to reconnect with his brother it was also annoying at times because after all… he was his older brother. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Liam asked when Killian reached the bottom of the steps to the foyer. 

“It wouldn’t hurt to just look.” Killian wasn’t sure if he was more convincing Liam or himself. 

“Then let’s get on with it,” Liam said as he smiled, clearly sensing his brother’s apprehension and patting him on the back. 

 

By the time they got into Liam’s car it was dark out. The day had gotten away from him. Liam started the car and as it growled to life Killian heard the ringing of his cell phone. His heart skipped when he thought maybe it would be Emma again. But it sank quickly realizing it was Regina, his lawyer. 

After a quick conversation with the woman detailing the address they were supposed to meet her at and the way to get into the building, he hung up the phone, avoiding eye contact with his brother who was probably preparing to lay into him for being so obviously disappointed that it wasn’t Emma calling. But Liam didn’t. In fact, the ass was smiling and staring straight at the road ahead as they drove into the city. 

“All of a sudden you don’t have an opinion?” Killian asked. 

“Oh I do…” Liam smirked. “You just may not want to hear it.”

“When has that ever stopped you before?”

“Fair point. Maybe one day I will. Let’s just focus on the task at hand. Is Regina there yet?” 

“Yeah, she’s already there.” They were only a few moments away themselves. Killian looked out the car window, the trees surrounding them on their drive slowly turning to buildings. High rise after high rise until finally they were in the city, and about to pull into the building’s garage. 

 

A few moments later they were buzzed into the building by Regina, their lawyer and sometimes real estate agent who was just in general a phenomenal negotiator. As Killian rode the elevator up to the top floor he got nervous again. Swallowing a lump in his throat he stepped into the foyer of the apartment. 

It was massive… and modern. The floors a bright white and the walls an identical color. Still he tried to keep an open mind. After all, he had Regina organize this apartment showing very last minute. He had been toying with the idea of getting a place in the city for a long time. Boston and New York being places he often went on business anyways, it made sense. But he hadn’t had the nerve to actually consider it seriously. Now he was though, and it was scary. What if Emma didn’t want the same future he did? What if the prospect of him getting a place so close instead of living on another continent was more terrifying for her than it was him? 

“Killian, perhaps you should put one foot in front of the other to actually see the place. I’m fairly sure there’s more than one room here…” Liam urged from behind Killian, who had apparently stepped out of the elevator and completely frozen in his tracks. 

“Finally, you two are here. They’re only letting us have the keys until 9:30, let’s look.” Regina came trotting into the expansive space, the click of her heels on the hospital white floors bringing Killian out of his daze. “Wait until you see the view.” 

“Come on now,” Liam shoved playfully and Killian began to move through the apartment. Walking through the doors to what was the combination kitchen and great room he could see what Regina had been talking about. 

The view was spectacular. The entire back wall made of floor to ceiling windows. Made to look like there wasn’t even a wall, like you were one with the sky. It was stunning. Killian loved a view, both his London flat and office had phenomenal picturesque views. A compromise to living in the city, and a way to feel like you weren’t living stacked one on top of the other. 

Despite the stunning night time view, all Killian could come up with to say was, “There’s no outdoor space…” 

“No but with a view like that, it’s almost like being outside…” Regina suggested. She had worked with Killian long enough to know when he wasn’t thrilled with something. 

“But it isn’t the same.” Killian stepped as close to the windows as was allowed, looking down on the cars whipping past below. They looked like toys with plastic people. He was so far from it all. He tried to keep an open mind. “Is there any outdoor space within the building? Somewhere I can let the dog out and play?” 

“No, but there’s a park a few blocks away where you can take Princess when she needs exercise.” Regina was being awfully suspicious Killian noticed as he looked at her and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

“Regina, is this a dog friendly building?” 

“Yes,” she answered. “But there are breed restrictions…”

“Breed restrictions, as in, no pitbulls?” Killian slowly felt himself begin to get angrier. 

“Killian, if you buy the most expensive place in the building they’re not going to make you give up your dog,” Liam chimed in. Which only irritated Killian more. 

“I don’t want to live in a building that has breed restrictions. Period.” Killian stormed off. Not even wanting to see the rest of it now. It felt like a hospital, not a home. And he so badly wanted a home. 

In all honesty it wasn’t Regina’s fault that the place wasn’t ideal for him. She had done her best on the short notice and high list of demands he had given her. There was a bigger issue at hand here. He hadn’t ever talked to Emma, concretely about a future. And while he knew she cared deeply for him, did she want to have him so close by? Did she want the same future with him as he did her? 

 

**Emma’s POV: Monday Night, 8:45 pm**

Now the library was quiet, the ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner serving as the soundtrack to the silence between the four women. Eventually Ruby made her way over to the couch area and stood in front of the empty fireplace to keep her own eye on things, while Emma stood opposite her. She crossed her arms as her mind raced trying to come up with the best way to tackle this.

At first Emma had suspected that Milah was working with Gold, that she had helped to set him free last night. That she was sneaking around Belle’s house as an enemy of the woman who was now married to her ex-husband. But as Emma looked at the two women sitting across from each other she realized something. 

“This isn’t the first time you two have met.” Emma was matter of fact in her approach. It wasn’t for certain that she was right, but her gut told her that the way they had responded to seeing each other indicated that they knew one another. And not just in an ‘oh that’s my husband’s estranged ex-wife’ way. 

Neither one of them spoke up. Emma made eye contact with Ruby then who looked skeptical of this whole arrangement as well. 

“I need to know under what circumstances the two of you could have possibly met…” Emma continued. 

“The sooner the two of you start talking, the better shot we have at actually catching your husband…. and your ex-husband,” Ruby said. 

“Belle…” Emma started, trying to come across as non-threatening. The two had worked together for a long time, if there was any way Belle could help them out, Emma would be sure to return the favor. “You know I don’t want you to get caught in the crossfires of this investigation anymore than you already have. So if there’s any way to prove that you weren’t holding this secret on behalf of your husband. It’s in your best interest to talk to me.” 

Belle held statue still, as Emma hoped that she in some way got through to her. The brunette quickly glanced at Milah, whose eyes went from calm to nervous. From the look on Belle’s face it appeared as though she was measuring her options. She could talk to Emma, work with her, help out or she could keep whatever unspoken alliance was happening between she and her husband’s ex-wife. 

And then it clicked. But Ruby beat Emma to the question. 

“Belle… did you know your husband killed Brennan and Moira Jones?” her best friend asked, warily. It sounded crazy, the idea they were potentially getting at. At least Emma assumed that was what Ruby was eluding to. Emma had guessed for a while Belle knew what Gold had been up to. Ever since the day of his arrest when she all but gave them the location of the dagger he used to stab Killian’s parents. But then Milah was here, and she was somehow involved. Did she know too? 

“Yes… but not the whole time….” Now really wasn’t the time to tread lightly. 

“How long have you known?” Emma chimed in. Floored that Belle, a person on the police force working toward solving the case would have known this for any length of time. “Then I’m assuming you knew too?” She turned to Milah. 

Both of the women were silent. 

“Belle, how long did you know?” Still the women remained silent. If they both knew then they had definitely discussed a bond of silence. “If you don’t give me an answer I will have no choice but to say that both of you were aware for a long enough time to make you an accessory to the crime.” 

She wouldn’t do that. But she had to keep them talking. 

“I’ve known something was… different, about Robert for a while now. As far as the crime goes, that knowledge came about a year ago.” 

Emma kept her eyes on Belle as she spoke, in an attempt to give an unofficial lie detector test, but every so often her gaze would shift to Milah. Who looked just as surprised as Emma and Ruby, however not for the same reasons. Milah’s surprise came from the fact that Belle was talking about any of it. 

It was clear as day to Emma that the two women knew each other. The way they first reacted to each other when Emma brought Milah in the house, the way their eyes found each other every few seconds to double and triple check their allegiance, and most importantly, earlier when Emma had only said they were going to ‘the library’ and Milah had known exactly how to get to that room from the front hall. 

“At first I thought he was having an affair, with the jewelry. But then I started searching…” Belle was giving the basic breakdown of how she had ultimately made the discovery. Piece by piece finding things that all pointed to a heart wrenching truth. The man she had married was a dangerous monster who had gotten away with committing an unspeakable crime and she feared if she wasn’t careful she would be next. 

“And then when he started to catch on to my suspicions… I’ve never felt more in danger.” She talked of being systematically poisoned. A slow burning illness to distract from her terrible feeling about Robert Gold. 

“Why wouldn’t you come to the police sooner?” Ruby asked. 

Belle appeared to be summoning all of her strength as the wounds from her husband went far deeper than her forced illness. And speaking up was easier said than done. Especially when you’re scared and uncertain. “I knew enough of the case to know that it was botched and screwed up and no one wanted to touch it after your grandfather died, Emma. It was just such a conundrum for everyone. They had spent years searching and found nothing. And the town had suffered because of it. No one would reopen it if there wasn’t a decent trail to follow. It was too risky.” 

Another deep breath. Milah still remained silent, but her hand was almost floating in the air, an unconscious motion for her wanting to comfort Belle. 

“If he was going to get caught, and convicted and sent to prison for this, especially 20 years after it had happened I needed all of the evidence I could find. And none of it could come from my own home. He would know.”

Emma went through the trail in her head. Most of the pieces they had been sent as evidence hadn’t come from the Gold house. Only at the end, when they arrested Robert did they find the dagger in his shop. There was but one letter in the entire home during the search. 

“So where does she come into all of this?” Ruby uncrossed her arms, looking at Milah who was still quiet. 

“She helped me.” Belle confessed. “I sought her out. At a time where I felt I had no one, I had her.” 

Belle had found Milah, going so far as to visit her in London. They shared their experiences and as it happened, Milah’s experience was not unlike Belle’s. It was then that they agreed to work together, to find a way to see that Robert Gold couldn’t hurt another person again. And the woman with the wild brown hair and pretty face, who Emma had resented for most of her relationship with Neal, suddenly didn’t appear as such an enemy. Now knowing that assuming the woman had simply abandoned him without a care in the world was incorrect.

The reality of it was, Milah had experienced the same slow-coming illness that inevitably left her too ill to get out of bed. With erratic behavior. Eventually, for Neal, she chose to leave. To get well and then return. But that never happened. 

“After so many years, Robert told me it would be worse for Neal if I returned,” Milah spoke, she did have a lovely accent. One that matched Killian’s in a way Emma wasn’t expecting. “I took his word, after all he had raised Neal in my absence. I knew that my last interactions with my son were so terrible. Especially for him. It’s something I’ve never forgiven myself for.”

Emma thought of how Neal had told her his mother had tried periodically contacting him. Milah was too scared to attempt to be in his life. So here were two more women who had been intertwined in Robert Gold’s web. 

“To live with him, to sleep in the same bed every night knowing what he had done… what he could do... it’s terrifying.” Tears were behind her soft eyes, as Belle spoke. And Emma knew then that Belle revealing the truth about her husband wasn’t an act of revenge it was an act of justice. “When you came to my house to arrest him that morning, I felt so tired and drained. So when you asked me about the murder weapon, I just gave you what I thought was the best answer. It was too hard to continue hiding it. The night you arrested Robert was the first night I slept in nearly a year.” 

Emma walked over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her. This woman she had worked quietly near for years, and never known the struggles of. 

“I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore.” Emma rested her hand on the young woman’s, feeling the faint tremble of Belle’s palm, whose dainty fingers no longer donned a wedding ring. “To either of you anymore.” 

“I know.” For the first time in a while, Belle smiled. It wasn’t jubilant or happy, but relief. Like no matter what happened to her from this point on didn’t matter because the truth had been fully revealed. 

 

**Killian’s POV: Monday Night, 8:50 pm**

“Hey… where are you going?” Liam’s voice sounded in the large, echoey room as Killian feverishly pressed the elevator button to leave the apartment. “I drove.” 

“This was a stupid idea.” 

“Something tells me this is about more than just the apartment.” Liam approached warily, like Killian was a spooked horse. “I’ve never seen you this way, Killian. Not even with.. Well with you know who…” 

“You can say her name, Liam. She’s not Voldemort.” 

“I know that Grace… Milah? What are we calling her?”

“Whatever you want. Get on with it.” It was frustrating to him. That after all of the years he spent with her, he still didn’t know what to actually call her. He had always known her as Grace, the proof was etched in black ink on his forearm. But everyone here had known her as Milah. 

“I just want you to be happy, little brother. As much as you think that the life choices you’ve made leave you incapable of finding that happiness, that isn’t true. Just because Grace betrayed you, doesn’t mean she didn’t have her reasons and it also doesn’t mean that you can’t look forward to a future with Emma.” 

“But how do I know Emma wants a future with me?” It was unlike him to be so uncertain. But given the circumstances of apartment hunting in the city not far from where Emma called home, it made the prospect of a future with her all the more real. 

“Talk to her about it, you idiot. You spend all sorts of time together and you’re both too stubborn to come out and say that you want each other around when the dust settles.” 

“Can you blame me for being unsure?” Killian eased a bit, Liam was right. Emma was the one he wanted around in the calm before the storm, during the storm, after the storm. She was the ray of light in his present compared to his dark and gloomy past. “I’ve only ever had one serious relationship and it didn’t end so well… I’m 0 for 1 right now.” 

“Emma is different.” Liam reached his hand out and rested it on his shoulder. “It’s not her you’re uncertain of. It’s you. And because of that you’ve been running your whole life, Killian. It’s all right to stand still for a while.” 

Killian released a breath, his body losing all of the tension he was feeling. He wouldn’t do anything, buy any property without knowing how Emma felt about it. But he had to be the one to start that conversation. 

“We have a date on Thursday. Perhaps then…” 

“A real live date?” Liam’s amusement was unmasked. 

“Hey. She said yes.” 

“That’s shocking considering you’re clearly the less-handsome brother.” 

Killian raised his eyebrow, pretending to be pissed off. This was what they did. And it was another part of why Killian thought being around here would be good. He could be close to his family. 

“Besides… a certain niece of yours has expressed to me several times that she wants her Uncle Killian to babysit her, all of the time,” Liam said, a face of mock annoyance even though he knew what his brother was overall trying to say. That it wasn’t just Harper who wanted Killian around. 

“Aye, well, that’s because I’m a lot more fun than you.” 

They both laughed at that, easing beyond the heavier parts of their earlier conversation and into something more comfortable. Killian had lived so far from Liam for so long, he was all that remained of his family. And there was a large part of Killian that wanted to be in his brother’s life. Liam was his best friend, and living apart from him had made Killian feel ultimately alone in this world. It didn’t have to be that way though, which was something he was realizing with each day he was in Storybrooke. 

After his and Liam’s conversation, Regina met them in the elevator and Killian apologized for how rude he had been. It was in no way her fault nor her responsibility to find him a place to live. Though he would need her to negotiate pricing for him, that would come later. They separated from her once the elevator reached the ground floor, Killian telling Regina he needed to talk to someone before making any irrational decisions about real estate. She gave him a knowing smile, probably aware of the person Killian was referring to, but otherwise said nothing to indicate she knew that person was Emma (she definitely knew). 

When he and Liam got back into the car, Killian checked his phone for the first time in a while. There were no missed calls or texts from Emma and a gut feeling told him he shouldn’t be the one to call her first. Who knows what she was up to in pursuit of Gold, the last thing she needed was an anxious phone call in the middle of a stake out. However, that was the exact thing Killian needed at the moment. To call her and to hear her voice just to know she was safe. 

“I could use a drink,” Liam mumbled after driving a few minutes. Killian knew he would just pace and torture himself if he was alone in his hotel room. So he agreed to get a drink with Liam, after all it was only 9 pm. 

 

**Emma’s POV: Monday Night, 9:30 pm**

After hearing the remainder of their story, Emma knew they were telling the truth. Both Milah and Belle had admitted they had been the ones sending the clues. Milah coming back to America to work with Belle to pull all of the information they could. Spending late nights in a hotel room towns over mapping out the plan. Belle needed Milah because otherwise her husband would have suspected her. And Milah needed Belle because she was the one who had used her police experience to put the pieces together. 

Emma looked over at Ruby, who was just as affected by the outpouring of the stories these women had. She nodded for her best friend to follow her to a corner of the room. Emma looked at Ruby, gauging how she felt about all of this. 

“I mean, we’ll need to get some sort of confirmation that the two of them both suffered these illnesses. And correspondence between them will be helpful in pleading their case,” Ruby started. 

“We can try to get them off as easy as possible. But they admitted to sending the clues.” Emma looked over at the two, who seemed the slightest bit relieved. “They won’t get out of this easy. And we’re going to have to tell David.” 

“Yeah. They’ll have to give official statements. Should we bring them down now?” 

“We’ll give them a little while longer to calm down. Then we can take them to the station. I think they’ve been through enough.” 

“I’ve got to say, Em, you’re handling this a lot better than most people would…”

“What? My ex-boyfriend’s mother and current boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend turning out to be the same person?” Emma said sarcastically. But it was her job, her career, to put the pieces together with the help of this woman. “Doesn’t this happen to everyone?” 

“You know it doesn’t.” Ruby smiled deviously. “And I didn’t miss that you just called Killian your current boyfriend.”

Emma bit the inside of her mouth. Cursing herself for the slip of the tongue. But not really that angry about it. 

“I mean… he asked me on a date. Thursday.” Emma got a little nervous thinking about it. She hadn’t been on a date that she enjoyed in a long time. But then remembered that it was Killian, and the nerves went away. She always enjoyed her time with him. Even if it was often limited to being between crises. 

“It’s about damn time.” Ruby smiled at her, less devious this time and more… happy. “You deserve it. I think you both do honestly.” 

“Thanks. But I think I need to talk to her. Privately.” Emma looked over at Milah, who stared off into the distance. Looking exhausted. 

“You don’t owe her any kind of explanation, Em.” 

“I know.” Emma was still going to give her one though. Ruby didn’t have to know that. Neither did Belle. She just wanted to sit down, woman to woman, and say what she wanted to. So she strode over to where the woman sat and bent down to unlatch her handcuffs. 

“Can we talk for a second?” Emma said softly, not wanting Milah to think this was a set up. 

“Sure,” the woman said back. She looked skeptical of Emma, but followed her to a quieter corner of the room anyway where there were two chairs surrounded by a small alcove of books. 

“Neal and I got together when we were young. Too young, probably, to have been together,” Emma started. “And then we had a baby our senior year of high school. Your grandson, Henry.” 

She didn’t want to get too far into things, hoping that maybe someday Neal would tell her about him growing up. 

“Even though we haven’t been together for a very long time, he’s still my family. I spend every holiday with him. We share a son. He still buys me Mother’s Day flowers…” that last one probably stung. And Emma retracted just a bit. 

“His father has turned out to be an awful man. And I think that Neal could benefit from you coming back into his life,” Emma said confidently. Knowing that smoothing things over with his mother could only help him at this point. If Neal could hear her side of the story, maybe he could forgive her someday. 

Milah simply nodded. A soft smile crossing her face. The only sign of wrinkles on the woman’s face came at the corners of her eyes when she smiled. 

“And to answer your earlier question, yes Killian is happy.” Emma looked down at her sleeve. Remembering being in bed with him the night before, professing to each other just how happy they were together. But even if they hadn’t had that conversation, she knew in her heart he was. “Better than he’s been in a long time.” 

“I suppose then he knows I wasn’t truthful about my identity.” 

Emma thought back to the night she discovered it. And had immediately told Killian she knew his ex had been lying to him. That night she wondered if Milah knew the dark connection between herself and Killian Jones when she began dating him. 

As if reading Emma’s mind Milah said, “I didn’t know when I met him. Who he was. And I didn’t know that my ex-husband had killed his parents.” 

“Was that why you broke it off?” Emma asked, when she and Belle were explaining the timeline of their meeting Emma had done the math. ‘Grace’ had broken up with Killian right around the time Belle went to London. 

Milah nodded. The faintest hint of tears in her strong eyes. “I knew if I told him, he wouldn’t ever look at me the same. And hoped…”

“That he would never find out who you had been?”

“It’s foolish right?”

“No.” As much as Emma came into this situation thinking that she didn’t particularly like Milah’s choices, on some level she got it. The woman wanted Killian to move forward. “I think you wanted him to have a shot.” 

Milah reached out for Emma’s hand, grabbing it gently across the small wooden table that divided them. It surprised Emma but she didn’t pull away. Instead looking into Milah’s eyes and realizing that any jealousy, any competition Emma had felt toward the woman earlier was in vain. She wasn’t going to try to snatch Killian from her, she wasn’t here to come between them. 

“Thank you, Emma,” Milah whispered, squeezing Emma’s hand once more before releasing. The words weren’t there totally, but it felt like they understood each other. 

A few moments later, the two women left the corner to rejoin Ruby and Belle who were sitting quietly chatting in the center of the room. Belle looked a bit more at ease, though there was still the looming wonder of what would happen when she and Milah confessed to the rest of the investigation team to leaving the clues. Emma and Ruby had promised they would work hard to ensure their punishments were as light as possible, but in front of a judge there was only so much they could do. 

But going in the women had known what they were doing would have repercussions, and had discussed at length what they would do if caught. To both Milah and Belle it was worth it though. Because Robert Gold would be behind bars, something that was long overdue. 

Emma’s phone began to ring, everyone in the room looking over to her because it was the only sound that could be heard. A part of her hoped it was Killian, she had called him around 8 but couldn’t talk long and she wanted to hear his smooth voice wrapped around her name. Wanted the butterflies that erupted in her stomach when he called her ‘my love’. But when she checked the front screen it was David, her father, calling and the butterflies she had dreamed up a few seconds ago were gone. 

“Hi dad, everything okay?” she asked. Knowing everything was probably not okay and that she needed to tell him all about Milah and Belle. Eventually. 

“Em how soon can you be down to the docks?” David asked, his normally calm voice laced with urgency. 

“Um… soon? Why what’s going on?” 

“It’s Gold. Someone called in and spotted someone suspicious around the cargo ships. We haven’t been able to get ahold of Neal but his car’s missing…” 

“What?!” Emma screamed into the receiver. Not quite knowing how to process all of this. 

“We need you down here. Have Ruby take Belle down to the station, they’ll be safe there.” 

“Alright. I’ll get there as soon as I can.” Emma hung up the phone, too shocked to even move for a few seconds. Neal’s car was gone, Gold was gone. They couldn’t find either. Emma hated the path her thoughts were taking. Gold at the docks was one of the worst places he could be. Hundreds of tons of cargo came through there everyday. He could be stowed away anywhere. Off to the great unknown in seconds as soon as the travel restrictions were lifted. Emma gulped and stopped letting her mind race. She knew what she had to do. 

 

**Killian’s POV: Monday Night, 11 pm**

A few hours later, and only about 2 beers in, Killian and Liam left the Boston bar to return to their respective rented homes. Getting in the car Killian once again checked his phone to find he had heard nothing from Emma though it was getting progressively later. 

“She’s alright, Killian,” Liam offered as he drove through the dark city streets, heading toward Killian’s hotel. 

“We don’t know that.” 

“No, but thinking otherwise won’t make this go any faster.” Liam stole a glance at Killian looking awfully sympathetic for an older brother who spent most of his time teasing him. “She’s great at her job, Killian.” 

“I don’t doubt her abilities as a cop so much as I doubt Robert Gold’s abilities to be a decent human being.” 

“I know.” Liam couldn’t offer Killian anything else. Because there wasn’t any argument against what a terrible person Robert Gold was. He had murdered their parents in cold blood. Obviously he was capable of horrid things, and who knew what he would do as a desperate man on the run. 

A few moments later Killian jumped as his phone began to ring. He looked down at the caller ID and saw Emma’s name on the screen. 

“Oh thank God,” he breathed before swiping the phone to answer. “I was beginning to think you’d never call, love.” 

“Killian, it’s not Emma. This is Ruby.” 

Killian audibly gulped. Instinct telling him something had to be wrong for Emma not to call him directly herself. Dread filled his body. 

“Something happened… Emma’s, well, she’s…” 

“What is it, is she alright?” Killian felt a mixed wave of anger, fear, and devastation take over. It felt like his throat might close as he waited mere seconds for Ruby to answer. 

“Killian…. Things went really, really wrong… Emma’s hurt. She’s in the hospital.” 

It was at that moment that his fears were truly realized and all of the anxiety and dread Killian had been feeling all day was nothing compared to the feeling that he had right now. The worry that took over every system in his body. The gut wrenching sadness that came with picturing his Emma lying in a hospital bed. One where he swore his heart that Emma had done everything to mend was now breaking in half.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, I hope that wasn't too too disappointing. I promise to update sooner :)


	22. 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Here for an update!!! Once again thank you all so much for reading and supporting. It's hard to write sometimes or to believe in what I'm writing and the feedback I get really helps me to continue doing it. That being said, feel free to continue, it's always nice to hear from people. I am so grateful. Hopefully everyone enjoys this chapter and what I've got in store for the remaining 3 chapters! Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT
> 
> Word Count: ~11,000
> 
> Rating: M, there is some violence in the first section of this chapter

**Emma’s POV**

It had started raining. The kind of rain that wasn’t quite heavy enough to require full speed window wipers, but enough to have them on. And the motion of them was what was keeping Emma calm at the moment. As she drove from the police station to the docks, she didn’t know what she expected to find there but she hoped beyond hope that somewhere lurking in the shadows was Gold. The very man she was after. 

Her mind was still reeling from all she had found out just moments before from Belle and Milah. Who had been so refreshingly and painfully honest, it was hard to even have them sitting in a police station like she knew they were right now. Ruby had gone in with the women and offered to keep them safe, along with some other officers who needed a break from hunting down Gold. Now that they knew who had killed Moira and Brennan and that Belle and Milah had been responsible for the clues there was only one puzzle piece left to find. Robert Gold. 

The night was now fully dark, and Emma drove faster than she ever had in her little bug trying to make it across the 2 square mile town of Storybrooke where the shipping port was. Despite its small nature in size, the coastal town of Storybrooke, Maine held its own trade wise. Which was exactly what Emma was afraid of. If Gold had been missing since sometime late last night and the sealing off of all entrances/exits didn’t happen until this morning, he could potentially be gone already. 

 

“Hey I got here as soon as I could…” Emma said, out of breath when she finally made it to the spot on the edge of the wooden docks where David and Graham stood. Clothes lightly coated in the misting of rain coming from the sky. Police tape covered the surrounding area. The normally calm space flush with activity. The flicker of blue and red cop lights. 

“We have some people already searching the cargo ships. Only two went out between the time he escaped and we sealed off exit, so he has to be here somewhere,” David declared. Probably more for himself than anyone else. 

“I can take one,” Emma offered, though with the sheer size of these things it was likely a fruitless endeavor to send just one person to search it. “Any word from Neal?”

David looked like he didn’t want to provide the answer, sucking in a deep breath before saying, “No, Em, I’m sorry. No one knows where he is.” 

“I don’t understand how if there were people watching his apartment that he managed to get out and take his car?” 

“He isn’t in there, we already checked,” Graham said. He looked tired. Like the investigation was finally getting to him. 

“How long ago was it that the person called to spot a mysterious figure?” Emma asked.

“Half an hour?” Graham guessed. 

“Interesting…” Emma knew it wasn’t the person who left the clues. She had been with Belle and Milah the whole time. Someone wouldn’t have just called anonymously about the docks. Which were conveniently the furthest point from…. “I’m gonna go radio Ruby and see if she’s had any other calls at the station. Maybe get an idea for who this person was. I’ll be right back.” 

He wasn’t here. Emma knew he wasn’t here. She just hoped no one would catch onto her speeding away. Whatever her next move was it had to be done in an extremely quiet way…

 

By the time Emma reached the block of businesses on Storybrooke’s main street, the rain had picked up. Her legs were just the tiniest bit tired. She had run most of the way here from the docks all the while trying to remain unseen by her own investigation team. This couldn’t be more than a one person job. And if there were sirens and police tape and loud noises involved, Gold could slip away again. For the briefest amount of time, Emma had to think like Robert Gold and if she were him she would have created a distraction. 

The thing with having all of the small town businesses on one block meant that, physically, in some way they were all connected. Like a puzzle. So essentially one could travel between buildings without ever having to use the outside street. 

In that bank of businesses, were apartment units on the second level. One of which belonged to Neal. If she was in any way on the right track, he would be somewhere along that block. No one had seen him leave. He could be in the building somewhere. Still on the right side of things. She could only hope. 

Slowly Emma approached the fire escape to the building on the end. A hardware store that had darkened its windows and put up a Closed sign as most businesses here locked up early. She yanked down the ladder and one by one climbed the narrow steps to the roof. She had spotted and accounted for the minimal police detail that was still on this street. A calculated move orchestrated by Gold whom Emma was almost sure had called in to report on the mysterious figure at the docks. Giving him ample space to maneuver in the dark on what would normally be a crowded street. 

The rain made the railing of the fire escape slippery but Emma kept going. Despite her hands getting slightly cut up from the rough, rusted edges of the ladder. When she finally reached the rooftop she laid low behind the tall brick that enclosed the outer surround of the flat roof. Only five more to go until Neal’s building, she thought, and seven more until Gold’s shop.

Seven roofs later she had carefully slid her way to the rooftop of the building that held Gold’s shop. Now completely soaking wet, the weather had turned stormy. With thunder beginning to rumble lightly in the distance. Emma pushed the wet hair out of her face and off her forehead, taking a few deep breaths to calm her fast beating heart. 

While there wasn’t a direct door on the roof, if it was anything like Neal’s building, there would be a small grate that would lead to the attic inside. And Emma had been right, because as soon as she righted herself she spotted the trap door, in the farthest corner of the roof. They weren’t very large, and highly impractical. But she had used them often when she and Neal were younger. Sneaking around over his dad’s shop. Sipping alcohol from a stolen metal flask. It was a place that offered total privacy (unless you were in a helicopter above). 

When Emma opened the small door, she peered into the hole. The fold up ladder that led down into the apartment space had been removed. Of course it had. Preparing her limbs for the drop she stretched a bit and took the leap. Landing hard on her feet in the hallway of that apartment above Gold’s shop. 

The entire hall was dark, the rain had really picked up as the storm continued to roll in and large droplets were falling in above her head from where she had just jumped. If there was anyone in this apartment they had most definitely heard her come in. But they weren’t making themselves known yet. 

She was completely soaked from climbing across all of the buildings. Her jeans and shirt sticking to her like a second skin as she quietly tiptoed down the hall. A clap of thunder and a bright bolt of lightning illuminated the whole hall. A summer storm. Emma rounded the corner to what would have been a bedroom at some point but was now empty. 

“Oh my god!” she whisper-yelled. Her heart stopped. Sitting in the corner of the room, on a wooden chair, hands and arms tied was Neal. His eyes widened upon realizing it was Emma, the room dark except for the flickers of lightning every few minutes. 

“How did you get here… what are you doing… are you…” Emma had one thousand questions she could ask him right now but she couldn’t finish a single one. Focused entirely on trying to free him from the ties as she rushed to be near his side. She knelt down in front of him, surveying the knots that bound him. They were good. 

“Mmmm hpmmm mmm,” was all Neal could get out, as his mouth was covered with a cloth. She reached up and moved the cloth from his mouth so he could talk. But all he did was take deep, long breaths. Sweat covered his forehead, his facial features hung heavy.

“Em, what are you doing here?” Neal asked when he finally caught his breath. 

“I remembered the weird passages in tops of these buildings from when we were young and when I realized your dad was probably the one who anonymously tipped off the police… it all clicked.” 

“Well… I don’t know where he is but he’ll probably be back, Em. You have to go get your dad and the others…”

“Did he bring you here?”

“Yeah. I was in my apartment and then he showed up and that’s the last I remember. I woke up here.” 

It was all part of an elaborate scheme. A way to throw off the scent of the police. Gold was a mastermind. He had gotten away with a gruesome crime for years and years. So why Emma was surprised at his most recent actions (i.e. kidnapping and tying up his own son to make it look like he was an accomplice) she didn’t know. The man was capable of anything to get himself out of the fire. 

“How long ago did he leave?” she asked. Working her fingers in at least one of the ties, wishing she had literally anything useful on her. Phone. A key. Her gun. Taser. Something. But it had all been left in her car. All she had were her hands… and raw intuition. So she tried to pull as much information from Neal as possible before his dad showed up again. 

“I don’t know… it wasn’t storming when he left.” 

So twenty-ish minutes. He would be back soon for sure. 

“When he gets back, you run and go get the others. They’re at the docks. I will take care of your father,” Emma said as she worked the ropes on his ankles loose but making them appear to still be tied. She knew she had to be the one to trap Gold. Neal could never do it. It was his father. 

“No… Em you can’t. He’s insane....” Neal tried to argue. But they were interrupted. 

Crash. Emma spun her neck around to find none other than Robert Gold standing in the doorway. All of her insides tightened. The sight of him so disgusting to her that she wasn’t sure she had been this immediately nauseous since her morning sickness she was pregnant with Henry. 

“Ah, you’ve called in reinforcements I see,” Gold’s slimey voice filled the empty room. A clap of thunder. A burst of lightning. The pounding rain on the heavily blinded windows moving in time with Emma’s pounding head. Contemplating her next move. 

“Dad… just, leave her alone,” Neal pleaded. 

“I can’t do that, Neal.” Gold took a few steps toward them. Slow, measured, taunting. Like each noise the man’s shoe made were nails on a chalkboard to Emma. She contemplated her next move, knowing she had one shot to make the correct one. She was still knelt down on the floor, it would be difficult to tackle him from here but she could do something else. 

When the man was a few feet from her she took advantage of another boom of thunder and strike of lightning to pull the cane out from under his hand. Jumping to her feet Emma took the long stick of wood and lifted it to his neck, pushing him against the wall as the lightning flickered. It revealed the barest hint of fear in Robert Gold’s eyes. 

“It would be in your best interest to cooperate with me,” Emma spat out through her gritted teeth. He wasn’t weak, and she had to use a lot of her arm strength to hold him in place against the wall. She didn’t have much time. 

“And why would I do that…” 

She used her remaining strength to shove the cane further into his neck. Emma found it difficult now to even speak to him. 

He grunted at the contact of the cane and bent just barely at the waist. Emma released him just the smallest amount, because she wasn’t a cruel person by nature but that was just enough for him to take off. Running down the hallway and reaching the door that led out of the apartment into another hallway she followed him. Hair matted to the sides of her face, lightning flashes offering the only light, chances were that he knew the inner workings of this building more than her but she kept chasing. 

“Son of a bitch,” she breathed, chasing him down the steps into what she assumed was the antique shop he owned. Emma stopped, realizing she had lost sight of him. There was enough crap in this store to fill a cruise ship. She listened carefully but all she could hear was the rain. 

And then she heard it. The faint sound of a door closing. But she was near the only two doors. The front door and the one to the basement. Where could he have possibly gone? 

Emma tip toed through the dark room. Surveying the candelabras, antique tea sets, chests of drawers, anything she could use as a weapon. Trying not to bump into anything. The noise had come from the other room. The room where she had found the knife Gold had used to kill Moira and Brennan Jones. What other kind of sick paraphernalia he had stashed away in this place. 

Slowly she trailed the way to the room, looking around even in the dark it seemed almost the same as the day they had arrested him. The false floor board had even been placed back in it’s spot. But Emma’s eye caught something. A large clothing trunk in the corner of the room, tucked behind rows of antique toys and baubles. It was out of place. 

Emma stepped toward the trunk, drawn to it for no reason other than it gave her a weird feeling in her stomach. Reaching out toward it she gulped, because the trunk would not move. It was stuck in its spot. She shook harder, and harder. It was attached to the wall. So she tried to pry the locks open and after a lot of pulling they clicked out of place. 

When she opened the top of the trunk, it took her a few seconds to get her bearings. Because it led to another staircase. Hidden beneath the confines of this harmless item. She couldn’t see what the steps led to but she knew this was exactly where Gold had gone. Crossing her fingers that Neal had been able to get away and find help, she went down. 

The steps were dark and narrow, leading into a part of this building not even the thunder could reach. She was completely underground. And a sitting duck. Gold had gone down the steps moments ago but knew where he was. Emma on the other hand had no clue how to navigate. All she could hear was the slow drip of a pipe onto the dirt floor of this room. The air was damp and musky. Her heart raced even faster with every step she took forward. Her boots sloshed around in the mud on the ground. This technically wasn’t even a room probably. It was more like a.. Hole. 

“Miss Nolan, I suggest you give up now.” Gold was somewhere not far from her. Even though her eyes had adjusted to the darkness she still couldn’t see where he was. But she could hear him. She just had to keep him talking. 

“And why would I do that?” she stayed still. “I’ve already come this far.” 

“Of course if you let me win, your boyfriend will never forgive you.” 

“Neal and I aren’t together anymore…” She just barely inched toward where his voice was coming from. A subtle enough movement that it was covered by her reply. 

“Oh I think you know I’m not talking about you and my son…” 

She inched another movement closer. Just a few more.

“It’s none of your business…” she said, slightly more defensive though she knew she shouldn’t be. There was only one terrible person in this hole and that was Robert Gold. 

“No, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt your career if it gets out,” he replied. All the more close to Emma now. Her senses on guard. Her boots slowly sinking into the muddy ground. “Think about it… you were one of the lead investigators….” 

“Stop. It’s not like that.” 

“His parents’ murder.” 

“That you committed.” 

“Ah yes but you were supposed to be solving it, and here you are running around with him. Having sleepovers. Bringing him along on joy rides.” 

“You can’t possibly know all of that.” 

“Ah but I do, dear.” 

Her skin crawled, the hairs on her neck physically stood on end. She couldn’t hold in her anger any longer if she tried. Knowing he was so close to her, she lunged for where she had pinpointed his voice to be. All of her body weight thrown in that direction. And she hit right into the hard body of Robert Gold, taking him down to the ground. The only weapon she had was her desire to prevent him from doing anymore damage to good people. 

It was hard to tell which way was up. Down there on the ground. The dirt and mud marking her clothes and skin. Hair getting caught in different directions. 

She clawed at him, he at her. 

She rolled on top of him and pinned him then he flipped her. 

Fingernails dug into the dirt. 

Her breath heavier with every motion. 

Was that blood she tasted? 

Her arms and legs swung. 

Was she standing up or laying down? 

Her head spun, darkness engulfing her. 

Chest heavy she pushed through. Knuckles wet with blood or was that mud? 

Was her vision getting blurry? 

It was so hard to tell in the dark. But then her mind was filled with a new kind of darkness. The kind that happened when your eyes were closed not open. And that was the last thing she remembered. The darkness. 

 

When Emma opened her eyes again it took her a moment to realize she was no longer on the dirt floor. The place she was in was brightly lit, evenly spaced ceiling tiles were in her direct line of vision. She blinked, adjusting to the fluorescence of the space. The light beep of a monitor matching her heart. Her whole body was sore, not a limb that wasn’t achey. Lifting her hands she noticed they were heavily bandaged in clean, white gauze. 

Emma no longer wore the light blue shirt she last remembered herself in. Instead a white gown with small gray flowers in an even pattern across the fabric. 

“Mom…” was the first voice she heard. And she hoped it wasn’t a dream. 

“Henry,” she breathed. Her heart feeling a thousand times lighter when she looked at her kid. Henry was in the chair next to the bed. Not two feet from her and he still felt too far. She reached out for him, he grabbed her in return. Her eyes swelled with tears. So relieved to see Henry. 

“I’m so glad you’re awake!” He leaned back and Emma saw that behind him on the couch was her mother and father. Her whole body in a decent amount of pain after what happened. What did happen? Everything was so foggy....

“How did I… how am I… where’s Gold?” she had about a thousand questions but the most important was that somehow Gold had been caught. 

“We found you in an old storm cellar at Gold’s shop, unconscious. You both were,” her dad said as he stood from the couch to walk toward her bed. “You’ve been out cold since last night, Em.” 

“And Neal…?” she asked. Remembering a bit of the night. A storm, trying to free him. 

“He’s okay, honey. Nothing major. They’re evaluating him now, he’s being discharged,” Emma’s mom said walking over too. Now she was surrounded by people she loved. Her son. Her mom. Her dad. Mary Margaret reached out to touch her daughter’s hand and Emma did her best to latch on despite the bandages. Emma couldn’t help but notice the absence of someone. Though she did love her family, very much, she almost wished perhaps Killian could be here too. 

“You were right about Gold, he was the one to call in. It served enough of a distraction for him to get Neal out of his apartment and move his car.” David looked stern now. Going from concerned father to cop in mere seconds. “We got him though. He’s in max security until his trial.” 

Henry took her hand as he sat back down in his seat and looked at her with all the admiration in the world, “All because of you, mom.” 

Emma untensed just a little bit. The last thing she remembered was being in that dark room underneath Gold’s shop, and then she woke up here. 

“What about… Belle and Milah…?” Emma asked trepidatiously. Not sure if the news had gotten out yet about those two being the ones to send the clues. 

“We’re working with them to get their official statements… fact checking…. Before we disclose any of this to the public…” 

“Go easy on them, dad. Hear their whole story, okay?” 

“I know, Em. I will.” He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got to get back to the station. I’m so glad you’re awake and in one piece. You just rest, please. Henry…. Make sure she rests.” 

Emma sighed. She wished she was going back to the station to work. Instead of being stuck in bed. In a hospital. But Gold was caught, Milah and Belle were working on a deal, the trial would start soon. There was very little more she could do. As her dad was walking out though, someone else was coming in. Doctor Whale. 

The doctor was happy to see she was awake and coherent. Doing some basic tests to ensure there was no internal damage. Later they would take her for more scans and tests but for now she could stay in bed. Given strict instructions to rest and not overexert herself. Emma tried not to roll her eyes. But was relieved to know she would be okay. When the doctor left the room he finished his speech by telling Emma she was quite the fighter and it was a wonder her injuries weren’t more severe. It was a compliment, to be sure, but she had been reckless with her decision to hunt down Gold on her own and she knew that now. 

“Alright, I’ve got a decaf for the lad and…” Emma heard the familiar lilt of a comforting English accent come closer to her hospital room and her heart fluttered. When Killian stepped into the doorway he froze, nearly dropping the tray of plastic cups of steaming coffee in his hand. 

“Hi,” she said. Taking in his appearance. Killian looked tired, and his blue eyes were a bit stormy. As if he had been crying or on the verge of it. He wore wrinkled sweatpants and a dark hooded sweatshirt that made him look about five years younger and unreasonably handsome. 

“Emma…” he said, gaze lighting up as he got closer to where she lay on the bed. The coffee cup tray still in his hands. 

“Why don’t I give you a hand with those,” Mary Margaret offered from behind Killian. Taking the cups of coffee and setting them on the bedside table. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright, I was so worried.” Killian pulled a chair to the opposite side of the bed from Henry. “Ruby called me from your phone last night when she got here. I drove right over. How are you feeling, love?” 

“A little sore, but I’m still in one piece.” Emma surveyed her arms and legs, they had a pretty good range of motion for how sore they were. “I guess it’s fair to say the two of you have been introduced?” 

Emma looked back and forth at Henry and Killian on either side of her as they both nodded yes. She had been so worried for such a long time, most of his life actually, about bringing men around Henry that weren’t his father. It was a big part of the reason she had steered away from long term relationships and dating. But looking at these two now, she realized she didn’t have anything to worry about with Killian. 

“Grandma brought me here last night,” Henry said, a little smile on his face. “Killian’s been here with us the whole time.”

Emma glanced over at Killian, who was looking a bit bashful. His hand going up to scratch behind his ear. Were his cheeks red?

“Why don’t I give you guys a little time. I need to make a few work calls anyway.” Killian stood from his seat, taking his steaming cup of coffee into the hallway with him. 

“So…” Henry started, mischief in his face now that Killian had left the room. Emma could see her mother biting back a smile. If she recalled correctly one of the last times Mary Margaret had seen Killian, was the morning she and her dad showed up to Emma’s house... unannounced for breakfast. 

“I’m going to give Neal a ride home, I’ll be back in a bit though. I can stop at your house to pick up some things for you, need anything?” her mother said in her sing-song voice, looking down at Emma with her round and kind face. 

Emma smiled, “Maybe bring him in here before you leave.” Emma had some things to talk to her ex about. “Just bring me some sweats and a t-shirt.” 

“Of course, honey.” Mary Margaret stepped back, “Anything for you Henry?” 

“No thanks, grandma. I’m alright.” 

Mary Margaret quickly left the room. Trying to be subtle about leaving Emma alone with her son to have the long overdue talk about dating… well about her dating Killian. Specifically him. 

“I know it’s a little sudden, and you’ve never really seen me date anyone before but Killian and I well, we…” Emma started, not quite sure how to word this. 

“You’re together.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I want you to be happy. He’s really great,” Henry said softly, reaching out and grabbing her arm instead of her bandaged hand this time. “And he really cares about you.” 

“I know. I just, I’ve kind of tried to keep you away from this sort of thing unless it was serious and it never was.” 

“You do realize dad has dated people and I’ve been okay with it.” 

Emma bit her lip. Not sure if her son was just being courteous because he was… well an incredible kid. 

“I love you, mom. I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but you’re a bit closed off.” Henry smiled again. “If it’s serious with Killian then he must be really special.” 

“He is.” She smiled back, easing her worries just a bit and watched as Henry eased himself. 

“Knock, knock,” Neal said as he entered the room. He certainly looked worse for wear. But still wore a semblance of a smile. Emma remembered finding him tied to the chair in the empty apartment above Gold’s shop. “I heard you were awake.” 

“And you look better than the last I saw you…” Emma eyed her ex-boyfriend. Trying to survey the damage. Physically he was in better condition than she was but emotionally Neal would have a lot to overcome. Who could you trust if you couldn’t trust your own father? 

“You look worse.” Neal looked at her bandaged hands and bruised cheek bone. Her purple and blue arms. The gash just above the collar of her hospital gown. 

You should see the other guy, she thought to herself. 

“I’m so sorry… about all of this.” Neal stepped closer to her hospital bed and Henry sensed that this was an adult conversation, standing to go over to the couch in the corner. Enough space to be out of earshot if they whispered.

“Neal, it’s not your fault. None of this is.” Emma pictured him again tied up, manipulated and tricked by his own father. 

“There were probably signs… ya know, that he had done all of these terrible things. But I missed them, or didn’t want to see them. He did raise me, he was all I had.” 

And then Emma remembered something else. His mother. She wasn’t as he had assumed she was either. But in a different way. 

“Look, Neal. Last night I met…” she wasn’t sure how much she could actually say. David said they were still negotiating with Milah and Belle. But no matter what the information would be available to the public by the end of the week. “Your mother. She’s here in town.” 

“She is?” Neal looked incredulous. 

“Yes. And the reason she left all of those years ago… well…” Emma also didn’t want to speak on behalf of Milah. It was her story to tell her son, not Emma’s. “I know she has tried to contact you in the past and you weren’t interested but I think you should hear what she has to say.” 

He didn’t say anything. Still maintaining that look of surprise he had from a few moments ago. He wasn’t arguing with her, which Emma supposed was a positive sign. 

“I think it’s important you give her a chance to explain herself.” She added, “You may change your mind about wanting her in your life.” 

Neal softened a bit before attempting to be closed off to the idea again. His face turning from mush to stone within seconds. Just watching the slightest amount of confliction Emma knew he would end up giving his mother a chance. It would take time, but he would do it. And that was enough for right now. 

“Your mom’s waiting, I should go,” he muttered, giving Emma the barest hint of a smile. The genuine kind that reached his eyes. “I know it’s hard for you but try to get some rest.” 

Emma fake sighed, but gave Neal a warm look and said, “You too.”

“Thank you for everything, Em.” 

“I should go with him, mom, if that’s okay?” Henry said as he stood from the couch. “I’ll come back with grandma in a little don’t worry.” 

“Alright, kid. If you’re sure.” Emma waved from the bed. “I’ll just be here.” 

And like that she was alone. Sitting in an empty hospital room, the only sound being the beeping of the machine she was hooked up to. 

A few seconds later, Killian reappeared. Still looking exhausted but missing his cup of coffee he had walked out with. 

“Henry said you wanted to talk to me?” he said stepping closer to the bed, his soft voice laced with genuine concern. Emma had to roll her eyes at her son’s attempts to put them in the same room. It was cute, and made her feel a bit better about this new relationship. 

“Will you come sit with me for a little?” she asked. The whole night prior had been such an event. She still felt tired. But she also felt like she just wanted to sit still for a while, with Killian. 

“Sure, love.” He smirked as he sat down on the edge of the bed. The furthest point he could potentially be from her. It wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. 

“Killian you can sit closer I won’t break.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, blue eyes wandering. Probably trying to see where he could fit in this tiny hospital bed without disturbing her. She would make it easy for him. 

Emma scooted over to one side of the bed, trying not to wince as she did so, but once she settled in the new spot she was actually quite comfortable and now there was plenty of room for Killian to lay next to her. 

“See. Now you fit.” She patted the empty spot, hoping he would just give in and hold her for a while. 

Slowly, and with the most care she had ever seen him do anything he crawled into the spot behind her. Resting lightly against her back. She turned toward him and wrapped his arm around her waist. The feel of his touch reminding her of all the warmth and light he had to offer even in dark moments. 

“I was so worried, Emma,” he croaked out after a few moments of silence. Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, like she was made of glass, “I’m so glad you’re alright for the most part.” 

“The whole night was so terrible. There was a point I wasn’t sure if I would make it out with my life,” she whispered against his chest. It was an admission of vulnerability, of uncertainty that she never liked to show anyone. But with him, she knew she was safe and free to indulge in any emotion she had. “I thought of Henry, and my parents, and you.”

“You do so much for so many people, love. If anything were to have happened… if you didn’t… a lot of people’s world’s would stop turning… Including my own.” He brushed the hair from her face, his soft touch probably drawing the blush right from her skin. 

She didn’t know what all he knew of the night before, but from the permanent expression of worry that had been on his face as soon as he walked in here she assumed he knew most of it. 

“I don’t know many people, well really anyone else but you who would go completely on their own in hunt of a known murderer during a thunderstorm,” his eyebrow went up as he said it, as if he was in some way not pleased with her. But it didn’t last long. 

Emma blinked up at him and almost felt him turn to a puddle. 

“I know,” she said curling closer to him. Hoping he wasn’t expecting her to feel guilty for doing that. “I’d do it again though.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

“And you love me for it.” 

“Aye, I love so much, Emma.” She noticed a tear begin to slip from his eye. 

Emma wiped the droplet from his long black lashes, taking in his face. Memorizing the curves and planes that made up Killian Jones. For the briefest second her mind flashed back to what Gold had said in his shop. That it would be awful for it to get out that she and Killian had come together during the investigation. Insinuating that in some way it made her insufficient at her job. He was wrong though. In her bones she knew Robert Gold was wrong about everything and anything he had ever done in his life. With that certainty she pulled Killian’s forehead down to meet hers and just rested them upon one another. Content to stay that way with him for the rest of the day. Maybe even the rest of forever. 

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips. 

 

Emma spent the next two days in the hospital. More preventative than anything else. She hadn’t been gravely injured during her struggled fight with Gold but at the time when they found her knocked out in the basement of his shop, the hospital was the best place for her to go. So during her time in the hospital she was subjected to test after test to check for concussions, internal bleeding, fractures, and so on. Emma almost had a panic attack when Doctor Whale asked her if there was any chance she was pregnant. Of course there was, with all of the time she had been spending with Killian, yes, for the first time in a while there was a chance. But her tests came back negative and as much as the prospect of a future with him was less and less intimidating, this wasn’t the time for a child of theirs. 

“Ready to go mom?” Henry asked Wednesday morning. Her kid was on summer break, and had spent most of those two days with her in the hospital. Killian came in and out, when he was able, which was quite often. Usually showing up with some stuffed animal or get well soon card or cluster of balloons that someone had left at the front desk for her. One of which was from Liam and his wife, which made Emma smile. To think that Killian’s family had thought so much of her to send a card and flowers. 

“Yeah, kid. Let’s get out of here.” She stood from the bed. Wearing a change of clothes her mom had brought her along with some other things. The ones she had been wearing when she was admitted to the hospital were… well they were a wreck and she never wanted to see them again. “Where’s Killian?”

“He’s pulling the car around.” 

It was interesting to see Henry so warm toward Killian. It almost made Emma feel silly for not introducing them earlier. Emma lifted her small bag of things and wrapped her arm around Henry’s shoulder as they walked out of the hospital and into the bright summer morning. 

The fresh air felt good on her skin. Her time in the hospital had been jarring for her, Emma rarely had down time. Especially during the past few months. But now things were coming to a head. Gold was in a maximum security holding cell. Chances of him escaping slim to none now that he had already done it. Neal had been discharged the day before and was back in his apartment. Milah and Belle were awaiting trial. A topic Emma would have to talk to Killian about but not right now. Right now, as he pulled his shiny black Audi around to the hospital entrance she just wanted to breathe a little. 

Emma smiled, biting back a laugh as he sprung from the still running car to grab her bag from her and open the passenger side door. Her hospital bracelet was still on, and rubbed against his skin as she grabbed his hand on the door. 

“Relax, Killian,” she whispered so Henry wouldn’t hear. Her son crawling into the back seat of Killian’s car with the many gifts she had been sent during her stay. “I’m okay.” 

“I know, love.” The worry wrinkle in his forehead released just a tiny bit. “I just want to help make things as easy as possible for you. Even just a little.”

Emma relented. Giving his hand a slight squeeze and offering a smile to him before he closed the car door for her. And when he sat down in the driver’s seat getting ready to pull away she grabbed his hand again. But held it the whole drive back to her house. The warmth of his palm, the humming feeling when her skin met his was just right on her healing hand. 

 

**Killian’s POV**

On the blue skyed Wednesday morning, Killian pulled the car into Emma’s driveway. Parking his Audi behind her bright yellow bug. Her father had dropped it off the day before. Killian wasn’t clear on the whole story from Monday night, so much had happened in such a short span of time, but he did know that Emma’s car had been left at the docks when she ran chasing after Gold. 

Henry was the first to leave the car, carrying as many of her gifts as he could fit in his arms and walked to the door to unlock the house. Killian reluctantly released Emma’s hand. Still bandaged but she wasn’t wincing anymore when pressure was applied to them. His heart sank at the thought, of her being in any pain at all. Emma was such a strong person, someone you could forget was even susceptible to pain because of the superhuman armor they put up. A lump appearing in his throat as he rounded the car to open her door for her. Surprisingly she let him. 

“Thank you, Killian,” she said in her soothing voice as she stood from the seat. Their eyes locked for a second too long and he lost all train of thought. Emma’s clear green eyes had returned to their lively appearance. “Why don’t you come in and stay for a while?” 

“Are you sure?” He looked over to where her son was unlocking the front door. Balloons blocking half of Henry. Killian had assumed he would just drop them off and leave them be for a while. He didn’t want to intrude. 

“Yeah,” she said, her voice catching a bit. “Besides… we need to talk about some things.” 

Killian felt his face fall. Perhaps he had read her wrong, in assuming she would like if he were around now that the case was essentially over. Maybe it was best he hadn’t told her he had been apartment hunting Monday night while she was hunting down the man who had killed his parents. He took a deep breath and waited for her to say something that would ease his mind but she didn’t. Instead she led him to the front porch where her son was. 

“Henry, why don’t you go inside and start some coffee. We’ll be in in a minute.” Emma gave her son a forced smile, that didn’t make Killian feel any better about what was coming next. 

The lad nodded quietly, heading inside leaving Emma and Killian alone on the front porch. The bruise on her cheek was beginning to yellow as it healed. Despite the ordeal she had been through, despite the bandages that covered her hands she still looked like the strongest person he had ever met. And right now she was staring daggers at him. 

“Listen… there are some things that happened the other night. Things that I need to tell you about before you hear from any other source,” she started, taking a seat in one of the wooden rocking chairs. 

He nodded. Not daring to move. His mind was too busy imagining the worst to control his movements. 

“I met Grace… Milah the night I went after Gold.” 

“You what?” 

“She’s here, in Storybrooke because she and Belle were working together to send the clues as to who killed your parents.” 

“Grace is… she’s here?” Killian’s feet automatically carried him toward a seat. Feeling suddenly like he was the one who should have just been discharged from the hospital. 

“Yes. She’s at the station. David and Graham are working on making a deal with her and Belle. So they get a minimal sentence.” Emma paused. “At my request.”

Killian could hardly believe what he was hearing. His ex-girlfriend had known. Grace had known her ex-husband was who killed his parents. He felt like an idiot. But why was Emma trying to get her off easy? 

“We came to a bit of an understanding… Milah and I. She didn’t know about the murder until… well that was why she ended things with you.” Almost as if reading his mind Emma answered the question he had been thinking. 

“I think that it’s something you need to talk to her about. She can tell you everything when you’re ready,” Emma said taking his hand. 

“You think I should talk to her?”

“Yes… it’s not my place to speak on her behalf. This should be between you and her.”

He looked over at her. Emma. Always confident in her work but right now looked so unsettled. She had made such a conscious effort to stay unbiased when it came to Grace. However, at the moment it appeared to be weighing heavily on her very capable shoulders. And then he realized... 

“Emma…” Killian brushed his hand against her face. Catching a piece of hair between his fingers. “It’s you, darling. Always.” 

He carefully pulled her from her seat and eased her onto his lap. The gentle hum of excitement whenever they touched was still there. And he willed himself to behave when all he wanted to do was keep her in his arms all day. Rarely was Emma ever insecure and he hated that she was feeling unsure of him right now. Because there was absolutely no reason to be. 

“At one point I really did love Grace. I won’t deny that.” He wanted to be as honest as possible, knowing she could read him anyway. To even compare his relationships with Grace and Emma was so difficult it was so different. His time with Grace, and the aftermath, had plunged him further into darkness. Whereas Emma had made him a better man. “And I would like to have a conversation with her to get some answers. So I can face that part of my past and move on from it completely. But you…. Emma you’ve changed everything for me.” 

Her eyes darted down, as she usually did when she was trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. The perfect rosy color that came involuntarily. 

“Hey,” he said as he lifted her chin with his index finger so she would meet his eyes again. “My love, you don’t ever have to worry about me. My heart is completely and utterly yours, Emma Marie Nolan.” 

For the first time in days Emma moved quickly, grabbing his head and pulling him into a deep kiss. One that wasn’t appropriate for a front porch. But neither one of them cared. It was like electricity jolting through as he kissed her. Emma’s soft pink lips promising that she felt exactly the same. 

“We should uh… we should go inside,” she whispered against his lips breathlessly. He loved the sound of her voice when it was this way. Like it was work to stay away from kissing him. 

“We should,” he whispered back but made no effort to move. After all she was the one sitting on top of him, and she hadn’t moved either. 

“I need coffee,” was the next thing she said but still remained on his lap. Forehead resting against his. Eyes hooded with desire for what they couldn’t do… right now. 

“You can bloody well have whatever you want.” Emma deserved the world. He nipped at her lip. Knowing they couldn’t do anything else. At least not at the moment. Plus if she was still sore he didn’t want to hurt her. 

“I think, what I want, is to just have a normal afternoon.” The way she said it, coming from her mouth, made it sound like the best idea in the world. “With you and my son.” 

“I think that can be arranged, love.” He stood her up and followed her inside the house. He would follow her anywhere. And soon he would work up the courage to tell her that. 

 

The three of them spent the day camped out on the couch. Emma was still supposed to be resting, and was under strict instructions not to work. This was easier said than done. More than once either he or Henry had to remind Emma to relax. To keep her feet up. That if she needed anything they could get it for her. Emma’s parents came over for a while to visit, her mother insisting that Emma stay away from her laptop. Or any other kind of paperwork she could scramble up. Her best friend, Ruby, also dropped by to bring food. Unsurprised the Emma was completely antsy on bedrest. She was a stubborn lass, but it was all part of her fire. The steadfast way in which she worried about everyone around her… even right after getting out of the hospital and single handedly capturing a wanted murderer. Yeah. That was Emma. 

In the afternoon Killian went home to go let his dog out, but at Emma’s suggestion brought Princess back to her house. Her boy was quite taken with the idea of having a dog and Henry kept busy taking her for walks and playing in the yard with her throughout the day. It felt almost domestic, but Killian was careful not to cross any boundaries. Offering to cook them some dinner and giving Emma and her son time to spend together. Though Killian thought Henry was a great kid, the boy had a father. 

_Liam had driven well over the speed limit to get Killian to the hospital. After he hung up the phone with Ruby there was no time to spare. Emma was hurt and he didn’t know how severely or what would happen next._

_When he arrived Killian found that Emma was very bruised and cut up. Found unconscious in a storm cellar along with Robert Gold. To think the two were even being treated in the same hospital made Killian sick. So did the thought of that bastard laying a finger on Emma. His Emma. The woman he was madly in love with._

_Hooked up to a machine she was resting now. It didn’t make Killian any less tense though. Especially because sitting next to him on the couch was Emma’s son Henry, whom he had never met._

_“So, you’re the one with the dog?” the boy asked. He didn’t look exactly like Emma but enough to see the resemblance. The boy had dark hair, and a kind face._

_“Aye, Emma tells me the two of you got along quite well when she stayed with you.”_

_“I was wondering when I would actually meet you,” the kid said smugly. As if he had known for a long time the nature of Killian and Emma’s relationship. Wait did he? “My mom and I are close. So I know when something’s different with her. I have to. She’s pretty private.”_

_Killian looked down at his feet. He felt nervous, though this kid could not have been more than thirteen he was still intimidated._

_“I’m sorry that it’s this way we have to meet, I just needed to see that she was going to be alright,” Killian began to stand. The doctor had come in a little while ago to inform them that while Emma had been awake for a short period upon arriving at the hospital she was stable, and just asleep now._

_“Wait.” Killian felt the tug on his sweatshirt from the lad sitting on the couch. “Stay for a while. At least until she wakes up.”_

_Killian looked down at Henry, who seemed to have the emotional intelligence of a much older person. Without another word, Killian resumed his spot on the couch and they sat together. Passing the time together as they waited for Emma to wake up._

A while after Killian made dinner, Emma’s parents went home and Henry went to bed. The boy had been sleeping at the hospital when Emma was there and it had clearly worn on him. The bags under his eyes dark and purple by the time Henry made his way up the stairs. Kissing his mother goodnight on the forehead. Killian didn’t miss the fact that his dog followed Henry upstairs when he went. 

“Well, love, how about I run you a nice warm bath. The doctor said it would help sooth some of the soreness in your joints,” Killian offered, expecting her to dismiss it. 

“I would like that,” she said looking up at him. Her own green orbs tired as well. Killian kissed her forehead and stood. Before Emma could stand Killian hauled her into his arms and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. Where he laid her on the soft bed while he ran the bath water. 

“Why don’t you get in with me?” Emma asked innocently as she sat in the warm bath water. Twirling her toe along its surface. All bandages removed, all scars bared. She had black and blue marks on her legs and arms, nothing dire but they were still reminders of what she had gone through. And his heart ached again at the thought of her ever being in pain. Killian was still clothed, wetting a washcloth with some soap to help her clean off. 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he said, dragging the washcloth carefully along the skin of her arms. Her hair had been piled on top of her head to avoid getting wet, but wild tendrils fell around her face. God was she beautiful. “Besides… if I get in there I may be tempted to…”

“Have your way with me?” she finished for him. Her eyebrow going up and a smirk on her face that said she wasn’t opposed to the idea. 

“You need to heal, Emma. The doctor said not to… overexert yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Hey.” Her hand went to his cheek. The space where her delicate palm met his skin was alight with admiration. Heat. Love. “You never have.” 

“I know but…” 

“I trust you, Killian.” Her hand moved to his chin and pulled him close to her so their faces were only inches apart. “You’re a good man.” 

Emma tugged him in for a kiss. One that began as chaste and quickly turned heated. An inferno of desire that always burned below the surface and ignited further at her command. He was completely at her mercy, this goddess that had bewitched him. Bewitched wasn’t the correct word, there was absolutely no trickery involved. His love for her was pure and true. Nothing like it had ever taken him this way. 

“As you wish,” he murmured against her lips. And it was, her wish was his command. Slowly removing his shirt with the help of her hands. Sliding his jeans and briefs down his legs and off of his body. He climbed into the water behind her. Careful not to be too abrupt. Then spun her so she faced him. She was perfect. Her breasts resting just above the water as she sat on his lap. Her messy blonde hair framing her beautiful face. 

“I called you my boyfriend the other night...” she said, laying her hands on his chest. 

“You did?” Killian could hardly hold back a smile. “You haven’t even given me the chance to properly wine and dine you yet.” 

“I believe I was promised a date for tomorrow night…” 

“If you’re feeling up to it,” he said maybe a little too sternly. Emma could make her own decisions. It was her body, but he didn’t want her to feel obligated and push herself. 

“I think it could motivate me to make a speedy recovery…” She scooted closer on his lap, so that her breasts touched his chest. He groaned and she smiled. Emma’s hands reached up behind his neck and tugged him in to kiss her. And before he knew it was trailing light, delicate kisses along her neck, shoulders, chest. Covering the bruises with his lips. Wishing that his love for her was able to heal the physical pain as it had healed his wounds that were below the surface. 

“If at any time you want me to get out or you’re in pain just say so and I will,” he broke from massaging her skin with his mouth to reassure her. 

“I know,”she said running her hands through his hair to rest on the back of his neck. She spun the other way and eased into a position where her back was to his front. Killian remained still allowing her to get comfortable. 

“You’re like a human sized pillow,” she said later that night when she curled up next to him in bed. After staying in the bath for a while, Killian had softly rubbed lotion onto her skin and helped Emma dress in a comfortable nightgown so she could get a good night’s sleep in her own bed. Tucked snugly beneath the covers with him, of course. The sound of their bodies hums of happiness as the perfect lullaby. 

“Excuse me, I think I’m a bit more rugged than a pillow,” he feigned offense. Killian could feel her giggle rumble through his body. It was the most delightful sound in the world. 

But then she stopped, grabbing her ribs, where one of the larger bruises had been. 

“Emma do you need more bandages? What’s wrong?” he shot up from where he lay, reminded of all she had been through and wanting to make it all go away. 

“It’s okay, it just stings a little still. Go back to where you were that helped support my back.” she tugged him back behind her, where he was content to stay for as long as she needed. To provide all of the support she wanted. 

 

The next morning he stayed at Emma’s for a while to help with breakfast. Emma was doing a lot better, her spirits were up. She was moving more easily. Though the night before had been one of the first nights they had a sleepover and not made love he found he felt no less intimate with her. Waking up in the same bed as her, making coffee together, taking the dog out with Henry. Eating their weight in waffles and sausage and eggs, but eventually he had to leave. 

“It’s high time I get ready for a date with a certain blonde tonight.” He eyed her as she leaned against the front door frame. Her head tilted and smiling. “That is, if you’re still feeling up to it.” “I wouldn’t miss it,” Emma leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Even the simplest motion getting him excited. 

Before he could think too much about what he was doing he had gotten into his car, dog in tow, and began driving. The midsummer’s day hot so he had opted to stay in his athletic shorts and t-shirt instead of his usual. 

About twenty minutes later Killian had driven around a bit and ended up in a place he hadn’t ever been. The green of the trees blocked most of the surrounding land but the wrought iron sign flanked by cement pillars made it clear where he was. Bloomfield Cemetery. 

Tulips lined the pathway to where he drove his car. Past the rows and rows of plots of people who had passed. Some adorned with floral wreaths and arrangements. Others bare from neglect. There was a new feeling in his stomach, he was nervous but for an entirely different reason. But he knew if he ever wanted to feel like a whole person again he would need to face the fears he had cultivated in the wake of the tragic death of his parents. Especially his mother. 

Killian slowly drove through the nearly empty cemetery. A Thursday afternoon not necessarily a time that attracts a lot of visitors for mourning. He remembered coming here to his grandfather’s plot every father’s day but it was hardly considered a visit. Usually consisting of whispered arguments between his parents during the drive and passive aggressive silent treatments the way home. Killian hadn’t been back since. Princess was in the passenger seat staring out the window, probably wondering where they were going. 

“It’ll be quick I promise,” he said to his dog. Though she wasn’t necessarily a human companion, she was a companion nonetheless and that dog had been there for him during a very difficult time in his life. And still was to this day. “Here we are.” 

The Jones family had a section of the cemetery all to themselves. It had been a bit ostentatious. His ancestors choosing only the most elaborate headstones to mark where their bodies now rested. When Killian got out of the car he felt an uncharacteristically cool breeze for June. Walking to the other side of the car to let the dog out, he put the leash on her collar and grabbed the parcel of brown paper wrapped flowers he had picked up down the road. He lead Princess up the grassy hill where they finally stopped in the place his parents’ headstones were. 

A simple tree separated the graves of his mother and father. It must have been planted after they died because Killian had no memory of the thing having been here when they came to visit his grandfather’s grave. Had the tree been there then, he could imagine Brennan Jones making a huge scene about how much money he paid to have the plot of land and how there should be no natural greenery. It would have been the kind of thing his father considered to be a big deal. When in reality, the tree was quite lovely and casted shade over the area. 

Killian rubbed his jaw feeling the prickle of his beard getting too long. He had neglected to shave a few days in a row now. Something he had been doing more often than not, slowly losing his obsession with appearing put together and perfectly groomed each day. It seemed to come along with not feeling the need to hide what he was thinking or feeling anymore. An honest approach to life that could be attributed mostly to Emma, who had done him the courtesy of being nothing but truthful with him. 

Remembering the parcel of sunflowers in his hand he righted himself, as if his parents were alive and well before him, and he wasn’t visiting ghosts. Though he knew they weren’t here, a symbol of them was, their souls probably lingering in some other part of their past life that was more suited to them. Not these characterless headstones that gave no indication as to who they really were. Nevertheless, it was the closest he could get. 

“I used to always say I would never come here.” He looked down at his dog who was now laying on the ground, chewing on a stick she had found. “I wouldn’t be one of those people who went to a graveyard every year on your birthdays… this isn’t where you are.”

Physically or otherwise, he added to himself in his head. 

It felt a little awkward, talking to the wind. But there was no one within earshot so he continued, “Since you two have been gone… obviously a lot has happened. I’ve done quite well for myself, I’ve had a wonderful career. Um… not unlike dad’s. You have one grandchild and another on the way, both Liam’s of course. I myself have never taken that plunge.” He thought to add the word yet but decided against it. 

He cleared his throat, the back of it feeling a bit foggy as he continued to speak, trying not to let his voice crack though no one was there to hear it. “They finally have an answer as to what really happened to the two of you…” he felt his hands shake as he held back the dam of emotions that this topic often brought forth. “For a while, no one knew. And then clues started to show up again a few months ago, so the case was reopened and I’ve returned to town.”

“I’ve been back to the house… it’s a bit of a mess. Something should be done with it, the land belongs to Liam and I. But we don’t want to…” he couldn’t find the right words. That house, though it was filled with some awful memories, is perhaps the only remaining piece of his family’s history. The house his mother did her best to make a home. 

“It’s been hard not having either of you around. And for a while I ignored all of the…. sadness that came with that.” His shoulders untensed the slightest bit as he realized he was getting better at verbalizing what he once was not able to. “And every day I will hate that the two of you had your lives taken from you by an evil and despicable man. But it doesn’t mean I have to live my life based on that hatred. Someday I hope to find forgiveness.” 

But in order to find peace and forgiveness he needed to take steps toward acknowledging the pain in his life. He took the sunflowers from the brown paper and set them inside of the small, empty vase built next to his mother’s headstone. Their fresh yellow color brightened the space, and Killian thought then that perhaps he should come back and swap them out in a week. For fresh ones. Perhaps Liam could come too. 

“I got sunflowers… your favorite, mum.” She used to keep them all over the house. Though Moira Jones most certainly could have afforded far more extravagant floral arrangements, she still preferred to get simple bouquets of sunflowers from the farmer’s market. “I’ve learned more about you in the past few months than I ever knew growing up… I had, no idea you were going through so much.” 

He had once been angry at both of his parents, for a long time he felt nothing but anger toward them. But the more the case and the clues revealed the more he saw them for who they were. Human. 

“I’m so sorry the two of you were so unhappy and that you were robbed of happy endings.” 

His father made poor choices, and was a bloody awful husband. Killian wasn’t entirely sure he could ever forgive him for that. But his mother, Moira, had been a light in his life when he felt there wasn’t one. And then too quickly she was taken away. They both were. A small tear escaped his eye though he was trying not to tear up, it was near impossible for him at the time. 

“So listen…” he was feeling more ridiculous by the minute. “I’m facing a bit of a dilemma. It’s, well, it’s about a woman.” His hands went to his gym shorts pockets, fooling around with the pocket watch his mother had given him right before she died. Give it to someone special, she had told him. But the thing had stopped ticking years ago and was damn near useless in 2017. 

“She’s well, she’s become very important to me. But she lives here, she has a son, and I live in London most of the time.” He took a deep breath. “The two of you died when I was just 16, so I didn’t really have a mother or father to consult on matters of the heart. This is the first time I’m feeling… open enough to do that, because I’m terrified of messing anything up. With Emma. That’s her name. She’s… everything. And I wish the two of you could meet her… we have our first real date tonight.”

 

He paused again, nerves kicking in,“So I suppose I’m asking for a sign that staying around, considering relocating back to the North East is something that I should talk to her about. Seriously.”

Killian said his peace and looked around, for what he wasn’t sure. The world looked the same as it had a few moments ago before he had started talking about Emma. The only sound was the light rustle of leaves from the wind and the gnawing of his dog’s teeth on the wooden stick she was chewing. His heart fell a bit, feeling stupid for putting himself out there like that. 

Just as he was about to say his goodbyes he heard the noise of something. It was coming from his pocket… the quiet and melodic tick, tock, tick, tock. Back and forth ever so faint he probably wouldn’t have noticed it if the whole cemetery wasn’t so quiet. 

Taking the silver pocket watch out he clicked open the relic and smiled. Because sure enough Killian found that the hands were moving in perfect measured clicks. For the first time in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading hope you enjoyed.... next up we've got the biggest challenge of all. 
> 
> THE FIRST REAL DATE 
> 
> Comment, review, say hi.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Here with another update (this time within one week-ish). Hope everyone enjoyed the last chapter. And thank you so much for all of the comments and kudos and just general love. It's amazing to be on the receiving end of that, forever grateful. That being said, I hope you all like it :) feel free to read, comment, say hi. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights to OUAT 
> 
> Rating: M
> 
> Word Count: ~9200

Emma knew what was coming. When her father called her Thursday morning to ask if it was okay for him to stop by, she knew it had to be serious. Normally if he wanted to drop by he would just show up. Which was why she was now, sitting across from David at her kitchen table, moments after Killian had left and she was nervous. Most of the windows were open, and it was late afternoon but the sun wasn’t too hot. A nice breeze rustled the curtains and Emma tucked her legs up underneath her in the chair. 

Her hands rested around the warm coffee mug, steam rolling off the top. Emma had set out a plate of strawberry poptarts because wasn’t that what adults did? 

“Em, I waited a few days to bring this up because you were in the hospital and had been through quite the ordeal…” David twiddled his thumbs. “I’m going to have to suspend you from the police department for 3 months.” 

It stung. Three months was a long suspension. She supposed she deserved it. Despite having caught Gold she did it in a way that broke nearly every rule in the book. 

“You knowingly entered a highly dangerous situation, unarmed, and with no backup.” 

Emma nodded. 

“You neglected to inform the team of your suspicions, you put Neal in further danger by having absolutely no in-place plan.” 

David seemed to be getting more and more disappointed in her with every word he spoke. And it hurt, it really did. Anger would have been easier to deal with. 

“You could have been seriously hurt, or worse, killed by Gold. What were you thinking?” 

“I don’t know.” She didn’t look up at him. Couldn’t. Not when she knew the expression she would see. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not just that night, Em. You took risks and played by your own agenda for months.” 

“I know.” She also knew what was coming next. 

“Your involvement with Killian was highly inappropriate and I should have never let that slide for as long as I have.” 

When she stole a glance at her father, he had softened. No longer disappointed, more so just worried. 

“Listen, I don’t want to have to suspend you anymore than you want it to happen. And I’ve bent a lot of rules to reduce your punishment as much as I could. I think the time off would be good though.”

“I hate time off, dad.” 

“You should have thought of that before chasing down a madman by yourself.” 

Fair enough. 

“Take a vacation, Em. Spend time with Henry. Or, you know,...” 

“Killian?” 

“Yeah. That’s still going on huh?” David gave the barest hint of a smile. The first one she had seen since he walked in. Emma sensed the hard part of the conversation had ended. 

“Dad…” Emma shook her head. “He was in the hospital with me, the whole time.” 

“I know, I just assumed that it wasn’t….” 

Emma realized what he was alluding to. 

“It’s serious, with him.” 

“That’s what I was afraid of.” He looked embarrassed, he had never really had to deal with any of the normal father stuff when it came to Emma’s relationships. She was notoriously private, non-committal. The only boyfriend of hers David had ever officially met was Neal. “Your mother told me.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. Of course Mary Margaret had to be the one to clue him in. 

“It will probably get out that the two of you are together…” David felt uncomfortable discussing this and Emma sensed that easily. Watching as he continued to search for something to do with his hands. “During trials there are plenty of things that are brought up.” 

In some corner of the back of her mind Emma didn’t mind the world knowing about she and Killian. She was in love with him. He was in love with her. It was a connection in her life she was proud of. The world could know about the two of them. 

“How are Milah and Belle?” she asked, sipping her coffee. It was still too hot and burned her tongue a bit. 

“We’re still negotiating. Both of them have made it very clear though that their main goal is to ensure Gold is never released from prison.” 

“Do they have lawyers?” 

“Yes… Emma you’re suspended I can’t really discuss this with you…” 

“Oh… right. Well what can you tell me?” 

“I can tell you that they’re both okay and safe. They’re in good hands.” 

“Good.” Emma couldn’t help but smile a little as she took another sip of coffee. As much as she didn’t overall agree with the idea to strategically leave clues to implicate your husband/ex-husband for murder, it was an impressive network they built. The amount of planning two strangers came together to do… it certainly was one of a kind. 

“Alright mom, can you give me a ride over to dad’s?” Henry said as he came down the stairs into the kitchen. He had an overnight bag slung over his shoulder. After hearing Emma was going on a date with Killian, Henry had immediately offered to stay at his dad’s hotel for the night. Most likely to avoid any kind of romantic business, as teens were known to do. 

“Yeah, let me get my keys,” Emma said as she started to stand from the table. But David stopped her. 

“I’ll take him, Em,” David smiled, knowingly. Emma assumed her mother had also clued her father in on her big date tonight. “You just relax.” 

Emma thought to argue. But then realized that the day had mostly gotten away from her and Killian would be here to pick her up in a little over an hour. 

“Alright.” Emma pulled her son into her side. Kissing the top of his shaggy haired head. “Call me if you need anything, kid.” 

“I will, love you.” He gave her a squeeze, David had already walked out of the house and to the car. So now it was just Emma and Henry. Her son spun in the doorway and faced her, “Have fun tonight, mom.” 

Emma smiled, realizing how lucky she was to have Henry. A kid who was more concerned with making sure both of his parents were okay instead of his summer vacation. She was suspended for the next three months. Perhaps she could make it up to her son by taking him on a trip or something. 

“Love you, kid. See you tomorrow.” 

And with that he was gone. Leaving Emma alone with her thoughts. Reflecting on the people in her life that she did. To have the son that she had. The parents she did. Her best friend. An ex she was civilized with. And it wasn’t so much an empty feeling that made her want to be with Killian, she wasn’t empty. But for a long time she had doubted whether or not she would ever feel this way about someone. Until he came back into her life, and there was no doubt in her mind that she wanted everything with him. When she had been in the hospital and the doctor had asked her if there was any chance of pregnancy, for the first time ever the question wasn’t a scary thing. The thought of a concrete future with Killian Jones wasn’t scary. The thought of anything with Killian Jones wasn’t scary, aside from losing him. She wondered if she would ever find the courage to tell him that. 

She shook the thought. After watching her father and her son drive away, she took a few deep breaths and headed upstairs to get ready. 

 

Emma was nervous. There was no other word for it. She had never been nervous for dates. In fact, she had been on so many first dates at this point she should have a Doctorate in the process. The difference here was, she actually cared for Killian. She had never been on a first date with someone she was in love with. That’s typically not how the sequence of events goes. Killian had texted her earlier saying he would be there around 7 to pick her up. And now it was 5 minutes till. 

She stood in front of the long mirror in her bathroom, as if somehow finding a flaw to fix would unwind her stomach. Emma had changed her outfit nearly twenty times. Killian had left much of this date a surprise and said that she could wear whatever she wanted. But when she asked what he was wearing, and he had said a suit, she realized it was the type of date you wear a dress to. 

The fabric of her deep red dress clung to her body in a figure hugging shape. The skirt tight around her waist and thighs to the spot just above her knee where the dress ended, her curves on full display. It was a warm summer night so she had chosen a dress that was off-the shoulder, pressing her chest just a bit higher than usual in a tight, scooped neckline. She rarely ever wore dresses, but tonight was special. And she wanted to feel pretty. She looked in the mirror, watching her hands smooth over the silky material of her skirt, taking in her smokey-eyed makeup, her barrel curled hair, her red painted lips and towering kitten heels she realized she was more done up than Killian had ever seen her. She had taken special care to conceal the bruises that remained from Monday. They were mostly gone but she didn’t want the reminder. 

“Your face will break out if you don’t wipe this off before you go to sleep,” she said to herself in the mirror. Trying to grasp onto anything she could to ease her nerves. But then she remembered, it wasn’t a normal first date. Killian would want to sleep with her afterward… right? Should she pack an overnight bag? Would they stay here or at his place? Maybe the date would go poorly, it was their first real public outing, it could go horribly and make them both realize they did better together when isolated. Oh boy. 

Then the doorbell rang and Emma saw her lined eyes widen. He was coming to get her at the door. Of course he was. She had expected maybe a call to say he had arrived, or a honk like her first dates usually did. Not an actual front-door approach, like she was a teenager in the 1950’s. 

With one more stolen glance in the mirror, she made her way downstairs. Grabbing the tiny black clutch purse she reserved for fancy things like weddings and funerals. When she opened the front door to find Killian on the porch, she felt herself take a quick step back. As if even though she was expecting him, she also wasn’t. 

“You look stunning, Emma,” Killian’s smooth voice still surprising her whenever her name came out of his mouth. Still giving her butterflies. Emma eyed his appearance. He had trimmed his facial hair and smoothed back his hair. To pair with his sleek navy blue pants and dress coat that brought out the most striking color of his blue eyes. It was then that she knew she had made the correct decision to not put on any underwear. 

“You look…” Emma felt herself still holding onto the doorknob for some support. The combination of wearing heels and her attraction to him throwing off her balance a bit. 

“I know.” He interrupted. With a smirk on his handsome face he extended his hand and within its grasp Emma was surprised to find he held a singular red rose, one that matched the color of her dress almost exactly. 

Emma pretended to be annoyed, but really couldn’t be. Taking the flower and bringing it to her nose to smell. Her eyes gazed up at him, realizing that all of her nerves had disappeared. Like little worry birds, they had just up and flown away. All she felt now was excited. 

“Shall we?” he extended his arm for her to loop hers through and without so much as a single sarcastic comment, she followed him outside to where a town car with a driver was waiting. Doors open to the backseat. “I figured this would be easier than me driving us.” 

“Where exactly are we going, Killian?” 

“It’s a surprise, love,” he said as they climbed into the backseat of the car. Normally Emma wasn’t one for surprises. But there was something about the way he said the word, something about the light in his eyes when he referenced it that made it the most appealing prospect in the world. 

 

In the car, Emma held tight to the rose Killian had given her. Partly so she could give her hands something to do, mostly because the gesture was so sweet. While she was aware that they were going on a very legitimate, romantic first date, she felt a desire to just straddle him right now. Forget all about sitting through dinner, and get lost in each other. The night before, when he had spent the night without making love to her she was conflicted. Obviously she was healing, still was, but she also was unwaveringly attracted to Killian Jones. Especially in a fucking blue suit. 

“How are you feeling, love?” he asked. Pressing a button on the ceiling console to close a partition between where the driver was seated in the front seat and where they were in the back. 

Once the wall was up, he reached one of his hands from across the back seat to grab hold of hers. The embers that always burned for him growing hotter now that they were touching. He hadn’t even kissed her yet, and she wondered if perhaps he was too scared to after the incident with Gold. 

“I’m better, the whole rest thing is kind of nice. The bruising is almost healed,” she said and she watched to see if he would flinch at the mention of it. He didn’t, but he did hold her hand a bit tighter. “My dad came over today… I’m suspended from work for three months.”

“What?” 

“For going after Gold alone, breaking about all of the rules in the rulebook in the process.” She didn’t need to mention that almost the whole office knew she and Killian were together. It was embarrassing enough. 

“I suppose that’s fair.” His jaw tightened. “It could have turned out a lot worse.”

“I know.” She looked over at Killian and realized that he still looked worried. “I feel badly about it. I could never regret catching him, but I should have handled it better.” 

He nodded. 

“Killian, I don’t want you to look at me differently. Or feel like you have to treat me like a baby bird forever…” she flipped his palm, and began to trace the lines in his skin with her fingernail. “But I do want to thank you.” 

“For what?” His hand went to her face and tilted her head up to look in his eyes. 

“For helping to take care of me.” She thought of all the other sweet things he had done during the course of his time back in Storybrooke. “For a lot more. If I tried to explain it would take up the whole evening.” 

“Perhaps you can tell me over time,” he whispered. Brushing a piece of hair out of her face. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked him this time. Wondering how he was taking all of the developments in his parents murder that had occurred over such a short period of time. 

“It’s been a rough road, I won’t deny that. You’ve been around the whole time to see what’s happened. I finally had enough courage to go see their graves today,” he sadly admitted. Instantly Emma wanted to do more, to do anything she could to help him. “But I’ve been working through it, with your aid of course, love.” 

“You went to the cemetery?”

“Aye, it was something I hid from doing for a long time.”

“What was so different about today?” she wondered aloud. 

“It was the first morning I woke up and had all of the answers to the most painful parts of my life. Not everyone gets that luxury.” 

Emma thought of all he knew now. That Milah had been the ex-wife of the man that had killed his parents. That the reason she had left Killian was not what he had originally thought. That she was one of the women behind the clues. That Gold was actually arrested, and wouldn’t get out again. 

“Has anyone ever told you how strong you are?” she asked, stroking his cheek with her hand. The brush of his trimmed facial hair on her fingertips.

“That’s not usually a word people associate with me,” he looked forward. “Stubborn, certainly. Arrogant, yes. Devilishly handsome, of course.” 

Emma smiled, he wasn’t wrong about the handsome part. He definitely was. 

“Well you are,” she offered. “Strong, I mean.” 

“So are you, Emma,” he said in the smooth, silky voice with admiration. It felt like they were in their own orbit together. Just the two of them. 

She didn’t realize how close they had drifted in the backseat, until she felt his breath hot on her neck. Her leg crossed over, resting against his thigh. And she was now only focused on that. “Something the matter?” 

He hadn’t kissed her yet. 

She released a breathy, “No...” 

“Are you certain?” he brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. And she could only imagine her cheeks were probably now nearing the color of her dress. “You look a little… flushed.”

He hadn’t kissed her in the way she craved. The hungry way in which he would sometimes devour her mouth. Making her whole body come alive. She noticed her leg was now completely crossed over onto his lap, where his hand was holding the top of her thigh. Crawling closer and closer to the riding hemline of her skirt. 

His eyes traced down the length of her body and when they resumed his gaze into her eyes, they were darker. 

“Emma…” he moaned quietly into her ear. She thought he would give in, call her a temptress and take her right there in the backseat. He continued, “If you come any closer I’ll be tempted to skip dinner and have you instead.” 

“An interesting comment from someone who claims to be a gentleman,” she bit back. After all, he was the one whose hand was basically up her skirt and they hadn’t even made it to dinner yet. 

“Forgive me, darling. I find it hard to tame my imagination,” he whispered, his voice so low and wrecked. She was pretty sure an audible moan escaped her lips. Which he still hadn’t kissed, by the way, despite being painfully close to hers right now. “Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?”

He teased. Okay, now he definitely knew why she was so tense. The confident smirk on his face giving away his intuitions about her. 

“You’re a stubborn lass aren’t you?” He pushed her hair off of her shoulders and began trailing kisses from her jaw down her neck, to the scandalous top of her dress. Avoiding her lips altogether. “Is there something you want, Emma?”

The air in the car was thick. As he continued to kiss just about every part of her upper body except her lips. She wasn’t the only one who was stubborn. 

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight, my love,” he cooed in her ear. “Red is a delicious color on you.” 

His hand pulled her face into his and (finally) their lips met, a tango of tongues and teeth and jaws crashing together. Killian pushing her mouth further open with his tongue, allowing him in. She groaned again. Her hands finding their way to the lapels of his suit jacket. And then, his mouth was gone. 

She was so surprised she had nothing to say. Just trying to catch her breath. Typically when he kissed her like that it meant they were going to fuck. 

“Perhaps after dinner,” he said confidently. The smirk on his face almost too annoying to consider handsome. Almost. “As you have just been so kind to remind me, I am a gentleman.” 

Bastard. 

“We’ve arrived, love,” he said giving her ass one more playful squeeze before scooting out from underneath her legs and extending his hand to help her out of the car. She hadn’t even noticed the car had stopped moving. She quickly righted herself, making sure everything was tucked into her dress that should be and reluctantly took Killian’s hand. “I think you’re going to enjoy this place.” 

Standing on the sidewalk and looking up at the building, presumably where they would be dining, Emma noted the name of the restaurant. The Golden Swan, read a sign out front in elegant script. It looked like any other building on the street. Assuming it was a regular fancy restaurant with linen table clothes and expensive food. But once she stepped inside she took that thought back. 

“After you, m’lady,” Killian said smoothly as he extended his arm to lead her through the doorway. 

A doorman had let them in. Stepping onto old, cobblestone floors Emma’s eyes looked to the scene in front of her. It was beautiful. “What in the…” Emma started.

Killian’s hand pressed into the small of her back ever so gently. Directly in her line of vision was a central stone fountain with floating lights and lily pads. Fanning out from the center were tables, filled with couples dining across from one another. Roses of all different colors decorated the tables, wall sconces. A band of finely tuned instruments to her right filled the air with classical music that mixed perfectly with the light trickle of the fountain water. The soft lighting that fell over the space was calming. Candlelit. Romantic. 

Her eyes were drawn upward to the ceiling, painted and lit to look like a clear night sky. Purples, and pinks and grays. It extended high, probably another 3 or 4 floors up. With wrought iron balconies that jutted out from the walls, appearing to house individual booths on each level. The walls surrounding the balconies were covered in floor to ceiling vines and flowers. Almost as if you were dining on the branches of a tree in a whimsical forest. And the entire back wall was made of windows that gave a panoramic view of the city at night.

It was like… if a fairytale book had a five star restaurant, this would be it. 

“Killian… it’s beautiful.” That was an understatement. It was quite possibly the most unique space she had ever been in. Emma turned to face him. “What is this place?” 

But as he was about to answer a young woman dressed in all black walked up to them. “Mr. Jones, your table is ready,” she said. So they knew who he was here? Maybe it was some place he came often. But it didn’t really seem the type of place to go alone or for a business dinner. The atmosphere was simply too romantic. 

“Excellent,” he said. Taking Emma’s hand in his and giving her wrist a light kiss, he followed the hostess toward an old fashioned elevator. One where you had to pull the intricately crafted golden gate closed on your own. Emma’s heels clicked on the cobblestone floor, and she held to Killian a bit tighter in case she tripped. 

The elevator let them off several floors up. The top of the restaurant, Emma assumed. She stepped into what appeared to be the largest balcony booth. One that looked over the entire restaurant below. It was lined with rows and rows of wine bottles in oak shelving but still captured the theme of her first impression in that whole room looked like a garden. The ceiling covered in vines. Carefully lit with candles and twinkly lights. 

Emma had walked over to the balcony. Simply too surprised to even react verbally. She scanned the restaurant below her, noticing details she hadn’t before. Soft violin music from someone playing on the main floor. Thick velvet curtains. She felt the press of Killian behind her, against the balcony. His hands resting overtop of hers on the wrought iron railing. She relaxed into the feel of his body against hers. She felt like Rapunzel, in the highest tower, away from the rest of the world. But instead of a knight on a white horse rescuing her, a dark prince had her heart. Which she had willingly given to him. 

“Well, love, what do you think?” he was the one to break the silence. His voice smooth in her ear, not doing much to inspire her to behave at dinner. 

“It’s so… unique. And gorgeous.” She wanted to ask him how he had found such a place, but was distracted by him slowly spinning her to face him. His eyes seemed to match the twinkle of the lights all around them. 

“I hoped you would like it here,” he said softly. It wasn’t long before they were interrupted by a waiter, dressed in coat tails who came to help them get settled at their table and offer them drinks. 

The soft velvet of the booth was a surprising comfort, and being that the seats wrapped around the entire table Emma gravitated a bit closer toward Killian. Sort of because she wanted to indulge in the balcony view, sort of because she wanted to be near him. 

“I think we’ll start with a bottle for the table,” Killian was looking at the printed wine list in his hands. “What kind do you prefer, darling?” 

Emma scanned the wine list. Everything was way above her level of wine knowledge. She was used to picking the cheapest bottle on the shelf. Or the cheapest box, if she was being honest. 

“Umm…” she pretended to actually weigh the options. She settled on the first one at the top of the red list. “The Sangiovese is fine, I guess.” 

She had Sangiovese like one time on a date. Some guy had ordered it, and he had been one of those fancy wine-drinking types. Who knew how to swirl the drink and inhale and would send food back if it wasn’t exactly to his liking. She couldn’t even remember his name right now but the wine knowledge was coming in handy. 

“The California or Italy?” the waiter responded. Seemingly, a sensible question. Her eyes widened though, involuntarily. 

“The California is fine, thank you,” Killian answered for her. Probably sensing her nerves. As beautiful as this restaurant was, it was also far nicer than any place she had ever been. And it didn’t matter how much makeup she was wearing or how nice her dress was she was still a fish out of water. 

“You’ll chase down an escaped criminal, by yourself, unarmed but ordering a bottle of wine makes you sweat?” he said, smirking at her from across the table. 

She rolled her eyes at him at she put her napkin into her lap. A human moment. She had never really been to restaurants this nice, even as a child her family lived a simple life. Not like the one he had grown up in and continued to live in as an adult. 

“Hey, Emma,” Killian said as he reached for her hand from where he sat, diagonal from her. “I was only joking, love.” 

“I’m sorry,” she squeezed his hand. Relishing in the warmth of his touch. “I just, I’m a little nervous.” 

“I see. Well would it help if I told you I was nervous as well?” 

“It might.” She smiled, and he returned it. Her rigid posture softening a bit when she remembered why in the world she had stuffed herself into this ridiculous dress and spent all afternoon preparing. Because she was excited to be out on a date with man she loved. Because she was his, and she wanted the world to know. 

 

After the wine was brought out, and they each had a glass or so to relax, the rest of the meal went smoothly. The light lull of violin music filling the booth. The candles dimmed as the evening went on. By the time dessert arrived, a decadent chocolate pastry of some sort, covered in strawberry sauce and whipped cream, it had felt like she had been smiling the whole night. Emma’s eyes widened the second it was placed in front of her. 

“How is it?” Killian asked after she had taken the first bite. They had moved to the middle of the booth now. Watching from their cozy balcony at the scenic view of the city at night. He had shed his suit coat and now only wore the white button up dress shirt that revealed a sinful amount of chest hair. His arm was draped around the back of the velvet bench, behind where Emma sat. As if they had done this a thousand times together, and it was just routine for them to end a date this way. 

“So good,” she said, licking the bits of whipped cream from her lips. At that Killian smiled, and leaned in closer to her to help wipe the rest of with his thumb. But didn’t pull away once it was gone. Instead his hand lingered on her skin, and she caught him glancing down at her lips. “Do you want to try some?” 

“Sure, love,” he said, dropping his hand from her chin. It rested on the table in front of them, so Emma prepared a spoonful of dessert. Serving a collection of the chocolate, strawberry, and whipped cream right into his mouth. “Mmmm, delicious.” 

Emma felt a warm feeling spread deep in her belly at his throaty words. He was looking only at her now, his eyes focused. She broke his gaze to look around again, some piano music had joined the violin. Making for a beautiful sound that bellowed through the expansive space of the restaurant. 

“How did you even find this place?” she asked, leaning into his side and drawing her eyes back to his again. Killian was warm, his arm falling from the back of the booth to cradle her close to him. “It’s incredible.” 

“Well…” He scratched behind his ear, looking nervous. She wondered for a moment if this was a place he had taken other dates in the past. A spot he frequented to woo women when he was in the area for business. “I own part of it.” 

Not what she was expecting. “You own this place?” 

“My company bought the building years ago, when it was entirely apartments. It was part of a bid we made for the structures on this street.” He so rarely spoke with her about his work. She knew he did consulting but the specifics he had never gotten into. Realizing that her work had completely overshadowed his since they had entered each other’s lives months ago. He seemed to realize this at the same time and halted. “This is our first date, Emma. I don’t want to bore you with real estate details.” 

“Hey… no I want to know, Killian,” she shifted so she could see all of his face, not just his eyes. 

Her tone appeared to reassure him, as he took a deep breath and began to speak. “That’s part of what we do. Restaurant consulting. We do it in other industries as well. Manufacturing, retail, residential. But my favorite section is in restaurants. That’s how I learned to cook. I spent so much time in places like this, I picked up a thing or two.” 

Just when she thought he couldn’t surprise her anymore, he goes ahead and tells her that the most magical restaurant she’s ever been in was partially his creation. Emma was pretty sure her mouth was open in wonderment, but she didn’t mind. 

“When my company acquired the building it had been vacant for years so a lot of work needed to be done. During construction there was a fire that burned through half of the building. It left the building empty and right before they were about to rebuild the center I recommended it be left open. Which is the space you saw when you first walked in.” 

It was hard to believe a place as beautiful as this existed in the real world. Tucked away amongst the hustle and bustle of a city. Passing by on the street you would never know something so unique was here. Emma had known Killian would come to Boston and New York regularly for business but she had never imagined this to be part of it. 

“Instead of building more apartments we decided to use the space for a restaurant. One that was private and elegant… a bit over the top. It took a lot of work to bring it to life. It only opened just last year but it’s been going exceptionally well.” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this place? Or what you do?” she wondered allowed. As he had spoken of the process he had seemed to swell with pride, and she loved the glimpse of that she was getting. 

“It never seemed important. In comparison to what else was going on,” he said. Taking a measured sip of the red wine the waiter had poured. And then disappeared so that they were, once again, alone. “Besides, my career had been such a thorn in my last relationship, I didn’t want to ruin this one as well.” 

“Your last relationship ended for a lot of reasons,” Emma said as her hand toyed with the chest hair that was revealed. She felt his heart rate speed up beneath her palm. “Working and having a job you’re passionate about, doing work you’re proud of doesn’t make you a bad man.” 

“It was what my father would do,” he said, and for the first time when he referenced his father Emma felt that all of the emotions Killian had toward his father weren’t negative. There was something else in there, like a bit of understanding. 

“It’s all in the balance,” she said as she ran her fingers through his hair. Settling her hand at the back of his neck. “That’s something we can figure out… together.” 

He dipped his head a bit. Looking somewhat embarrassed but there was still a smile on his face so she knew that on some level she had gotten through. 

“Killian, I want you to feel like you can always tell me things, no matter what’s going on. I want to know what you do with your days and what you’re working on or what you’re watching on Netflix or what you’re reading.” 

He clearly liked the sound of that, looking a bit more relieved. Usually he was the one who was more verbal. In conversation, in sex, in anything. But it felt good to talk, and to let him in on a little of what went through her head when she thought of him. 

“I want to know about your life. Because…” she wondered whether or not this was an ideal time to dive into this. “Because I want to be a part of that life.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah. And I want you to be a part of mine.” 

“Well then, there’s something we need to discuss.” He was all serious again, despite being in such cozy quarters with her. This was definitely the most interesting first date she had ever had. 

“What is it?” 

“I’ve been thinking about moving back to America. For some time now, I’ve gone back and forth about it. Even going so far as to tour an apartment in Boston this week.” 

He reached down and pulled her hand up to his chest. 

“After I lost my parents, I was terrified of being anywhere near Storybrooke. For years, every time I flew to Boston for work I would be sick with anxiety. Everything was so uncertain. I had no clue what had actually happened to them all those years ago. It was a beast I wasn’t willing to deal with.” 

He took another deep breath, and kissed her hand. 

“But coming back here now, twenty years later. It feels like there isn’t a place in the world I would rather be. I think part of that comes from my brother being here, he’s my only remaining family so there’s a desire to have roots. And obviously some of it comes from the actual solving of the case, the answers I’ve wondered about for a long time.” 

Now his hand went up to cup her cheek. The warm palm sending tingles down her whole body, and the way he looked at her right now made her never want to leave this spot. 

“It also comes from you, Emma, and in wanting a future with you. If you want that as well..” 

It took Emma a second to process everything. All that he was saying, and asking, was something she never pictured herself having with someone. Let alone someone she cared so much for. The idea alone made her knees completely weak, and she was grateful to be sitting down. Nearly on the lap of this man who she loved so much. 

“Of course I want a future with you,” she said, barely able to hold it in anymore. Those words had been on the tip of her tongue for more time than she cared to admit but she was admitting it now. “I just always thought maybe that after the case ended that…” 

“That I would leave?” 

“Yeah, kind of.” She was embarrassed to even say it. Because every time she looked into his eyes she knew he wasn’t going to leave her. 

“As if I could ever resume a life without you in it, Emma,” he said as he twirled a piece of her hair with his finger. “On the contrary I would like your help finding a place for me to live.”

“Yeah?” 

“Aye, yours is an opinion I greatly value.”

“Well, it turns out my schedule just freed up a lot, for the next three months actually.” 

“I love you,” he said smiling. 

“I love you too,” she replied. Relief flooding her body as she realized they just talked about their future, and they both wanted the same things. 

 

Taking their time, they finished the remaining dessert on the table. Feeding each other little bits, savoring in the way the chocolate tasted on each other’s mouths. Flirtier with each bite of dessert and each sip of wine. 

At one point, Emma stood from the booth to look down from her tower again. The view of the restaurant below more bustling with activity than when they had first arrived. The bar was crowded with people, the tables on the ground floor were filled with couples, and even a dance floor had opened up around the central fountain. She felt Killian approach her from behind, moving her hair off of her shoulder and pressing a kiss to the bare skin. Her head fell back into his chest. Knowing there were other people in the booths below, but each couple seemed to be just as occupied. “Killian…”

“As good as that dessert was it doesn’t even compare to how delicious you look in that dress, my love. I can hardly wait to tear it off of you later…” he said between kisses. Moving from chaste to near desperate quickly. Emma couldn’t force herself to care that they were technically in public. She just wanted him to keep going. 

“You sound awfully sure of yourself, how do you know I’ll let you?” she feigned protest as she extended her neck back so he had more places to put his lips. This was what she always wanted with him. The games mixed with the familiar endearments. It almost reminded her of the night he had shown up at her office and taken her right on the desk. The toying with one another that ensued after. The give and take. He was the only man she had ever known who could keep up with her, in more ways than one. 

“Because if I know you, and at this point I think I do,” he spun her so her back was against a wall of vines and flowers. His hands raised to either side of her head, blocking her in. No longer in the balcony view, “you’d have me right now.” 

“Would I?” she smirked and dragged her index finger up his chest to where his white dress shirt was unbuttoned just enough to see a bit of his chest hair that she loved so much. 

“I’d wager your panties are soaked through right now just thinking about it,” he whispered as he bit her ear and his hand began to slowly crawl up her leg. Emma stared at the smug look on his face. He thought he’d won. 

“I’m not wearing any,” she said smoothly. 

Proud of how confident her voice had come off and using that adrenaline to push her way out of his caged arms. As she walked through the arch toward the elevator she felt his eyes on her back. When Emma turned around to see him staring hungrily at her, she knew she had won. But she wasn’t done yet. 

“Why don’t we go downstairs for a dance?” she asked with a coy innocence she wasn’t sure she could pull off until she watched Killian walk purposefully, but with slow, measured steps over to her. She never saw his eyes so dark. 

“It would be my pleasure,” he said grabbing her hand and leading her into the now waiting elevator. Being that there was an attendant inside the lift, Emma had to behave herself. And she did… mostly. She grabbed his hand and led him to the center of the dance floor the second the elevator door opened. It had reminded her of the night in his hotel when they slow danced to Frank Sinatra. Though this was their first real date, it occurred to Emma that they had shared so many wonderful nights already. And she thought of more to come, since he was planning on moving back. The night was perfect. When they slow danced for song after song to wordless music, surrounded by other couples in the dim light of the restaurant. When she had lost track of how long they had been dancing. When she pressed her forehead to his and realized the time didn’t matter, she had nowhere to be but here. Until… Killian stepped on her foot and it certainly didn’t help that she was wearing kitten heels with no real support. 

“Ooo,” she groaned and leaned over to grab it in the middle of the dance floor. 

“Emma, are you alright?” Killian asked, putting one hand on her shoulder. Helping her balance. “I’m so sorry.” 

And then she started laughing. Out loud. Much to everyone around her’s disapproval. Killian looked confused. 

“I was just thinking about how perfect everything tonight was,” she said, her laugh subsiding as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Pulling him back to her. 

“Forgive my clumsiness, I was a bit distracted myself.” 

“Maybe it’s time we got out of here,” she leaned in and whispered in his ear. Feeling his whole body tense at her suggestion. “I seem to remember a promise was made in the backseat of the car…” 

Before Emma could catch her breath Killian grabbed her hand and led her through the crowd of people. Making their way to the front doors, he dialed his cell phone and muttered a quick, “bring the car around.” 

 

Emma slid across the backseat and Killian crawled in after her. The partition was still up from earlier, thank god, because as soon as the car door closed behind Killian, she was on him. There would be time for slow later, but right now all she wanted was fast and dirty. Something she knew Killian was more than capable of. 

“Here.” Between kisses he lifted her and placed her legs on either side of him. Her skirt riding up around her waist. It was too tight for the straddled position across his lap. She continued kissing wherever her mouth could find. His jaw, his neck, his lips. And he did the same with her. The clumsy and hurried kind of foreplay that only worked before car sex. 

“We have to be quick,” she moaned. Though she certainly wanted this to last longer. 

“Am I having the driver make one stop or two?” he asked, in a way that indicated he knew her answer. 

“Only one.” 

His tongue trailed wet lines along her sensitive skin. The warm feeling of him sucking on the tops of her breasts that her dress revealed. The sensitive spot just above her nipples. Emma grabbed onto his hair, forcing his head further to her chest. 

“Killian,” she breathed. Her head arching back and hitting the partition. She didn’t care though. To have Killian’s lips working their way along her skin was electric and her hips began to grind against his. She could feel his length now fully hard beneath his pants and it made her ache more for him. “Fuck…”

“Christ, Emma,” he moaned, running a finger through her dripping wet folds. “So wet for me… were you like this the whole night?” 

She smiled, thinking of how she had been. Emma pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. Then began working on his belt and shirt. Opening the white buttons with no less than reckless abandon. And he slid the top half of her dress down so the red fabric bunched at her waist, giving him full access to her breasts. 

“Oh god...” she groaned as he grasped onto a nipple. Taking it between his teeth while the other was massaged by his hand. Everything was quick, hurried. So different from their dinner. But it was no less pleasurable. Her center dripping with want for him as his fingers carefully began to massage her, readying her for him. 

Emma reached down into Killian’s unbelted pants and pulled out his hardened cock. Their breath heavy from the quick pace of all their movements. 

“I need you… inside of me…” she said between gasps. She didn’t know how much more time they had in the car before it arrived back at his place. So it needed to be fast. She rose onto her knees, heels digging into the leather of the front seat. 

“As you wish.” His hands rested on her waist as she eased down onto his length until he was fully inside of her. 

“So good,” she screamed. Feeling the whole of him in her. It was unlike anything else. 

He began to move, after waiting a few seconds for her to adjust to his size. And for that she was grateful but she needed the friction. Craved it like a woman starved.

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever encountered, darling,” he breathed into her hair. Which had formed a cloak around their faces. Her tamed curls now wild with the passion that coursed through her. “So tight. All for me.”

“Yours,” she cooed, breathless. Trying to keep up with him. 

That only made him pump harder, his hips working at a brutal pace. Thrusting up to meet hers, she cried out his name. 

“I love when you say my name,” he confessed, continuing his motions as he found her face to kiss her. Rough lips were on hers, hungry, desperate, delicious. She could still taste the barest hints of wine in his mouth. She sucked on his bottom lip to claim it. Make it bright pink from her teeth, and he moaned in satisfaction. 

“A bloody temptress you are. Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep my hands off of you tonight?” 

With his words she felt her pleasure building to the heights only he could take her to. 

“Your legs in those shoes.” He grabbed at the top of her thighs, running them down to where the spikes of her heels were. 

“This damned dress,” he groaned. Bringing his hands up underneath the skirt. She arched her back, leaning into him. Finally reaching her peak, waves of pleasure crashing over her. He was soon to follow, his cock emptying itself inside of her. She milked him dry. Not wanting the feeling to leave her body. 

Their ragged breath the only sound in the backseat. It was dark, they had left the lights off to ensure privacy. But she could still see the angles of his face in the dimness that came from the street lights they passed by. 

“What are you thinking, love?” he said finally, after he had somewhat caught his breath. Though his voice sounded wrecked and Emma felt a surge of pride at her ability to reduce this man to swoon. Even as his seed was drying on the insides of her thighs as she eased him out of her. 

“I haven’t had sex in a car since…I was a teenager” the last time was probably when she was in high school. When the backseats of cars were the only option unless you wanted your parents to catch you. 

“And how did this time measure up?”

“So much better,” she leaned forward, still in his lap, pressing her breasts into his chest. Loving the feeling of his rough chest hair on her bare skin. 

“I should hope so.” 

“I’m so happy.” She latched her hands onto the sides of his shirt that she had torn open. His hands that were resting on the tops of her thighs tightened around her. Pulling Emma all the more close. He smelled incredible, his perfectly manicured hair from earlier now a wreck from her hands.

“Me too.” His hands moved from her legs to wrap around her back. Drawing figures with his fingers in her skin. “How is it that it has only been a few days since I last had you and it felt like an eternity?”

Oh thank god she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. 

“We’re one of those nauseating couples who can’t get enough of each other I suppose…” She planted a kiss on his lips. Far more chaste than any they had shared so far this night. But the car had come to a stop, and they would have to get out sooner or later. 

“Help me get this back on, please,” she said hurriedly in reference to her dress. That was currently covering nothing. 

“Seems a bloody waste, as I’ll be tearing it off of you as soon as we get upstairs,” Killian whispered in her ear. Sliding the fabric back up her body and then putting his suit coat over her shoulders. Lifting her long blonde hair and laying it so it framed her face. “You’ve red marks all over you from my mouth, I would hate for the hotel staff to see.” 

Emma felt her cheeks get red. She could only imagine what her skin looked like. It was always so responsive to him. Every part of her was. She loved the feel of his mouth on her, the way his body felt pressed against hers. The way every move he made was to please and excite her. As if that made him just as happy. 

 

But when they got off of the elevator, walking into Killian’s penthouse nothing was hurried. In fact, it was quite the opposite. They were greeted at the door by Killian’s dog, who needed to be let out. 

Emma followed Killian out to the patio, it was a nice night. The stars could be seen from where they stood. Killian poured Emma and himself another glass of wine, from an ice bucket that rested on a room service cart, waiting for them. The white linen cloth covered in red rose petals. He had thought of everything. Right down to last possible detail. It had felt like a fairytale. The date she had been so nervous for. Holding her glass of wine, she looked over at Killian who was leaned against the railing sipping his glass of wine. 

“Come here,” he said with a smile. And she went to him, allowing him to envelop her in his arms. She looked up at him, even with her heels she was still a tiny bit shorter than he was. “I thought I would make a toast.”

“Hmm, and to what are we toasting?” Emma swirled the light, bubbly colored liquid in her glass. 

“To all of your hard work,” He raised one of his arms that was wrapped around her with the wine in it, “Bringing justice to a situation I never thought I would know the solution to.” 

“It was my pleasure,” she said, clinking her glass to his. Keeping their eyes locked with one another as they sipped. 

“And to our first date, something I’ve waited a long time to have with you, my love.” His honesty was jarring. The genuine look of love and admiration on his face warmed her heart, reminding her that it in fact was full. “How did I do?” 

“Everything was perfect, Killian,” she said with all of the feeling she could muster. Hoping that he knew how wonderful it had been. 

“Will you go out with me again?” he asked, all of a sudden very serious. His eyebrow up in question. And she couldn’t help but smile. Another question he obviously knew the answer to. 

Instead of answering aloud, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. Of course she would go out with him again. Her mouth moved slowly but deliberately on his. Easing her tongue inside she got carried away. Not entirely her fault, as his mouth was just as needy. And it never ended. 

Their kissing moved from standing, to lying side by side on one of the lounge chairs on the patio. Slow movements of their mouths crashing into one another, with no promise of stopping. They made love. Loving, passionate sex for hours. Emma crying out his name over and over. Killian whispering dirty yet beautiful things to his love. They broke only to bask in the pleasure of simply being able to have one another at any time. They memorized each inch and curve of each other. The way you could when there was nowhere to be. No crisis to take care of, no outbreaks of injustice. Nothing could interfere. 

For once, their time was not borrowed. It was theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been something I've envisioned since before I even knew if I was going to publish this story. So in a way it helped kickstart the whole thing. 
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you for reading, only 2 chapters left! Let me know how your thoughts! And I hope everyone has a lovely weekend :)


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All rights to OUAT 
> 
> Rating: M 
> 
> Word Count: ~10,600

**Killian’s POV**

**Killian’s version, October 2 1997**

_Killian couldn’t take it anymore. The scrutiny, the media, everything. His parents had been taken from him mere weeks ago and all anyone cared about was pointing the finger at him. Which was why he was traipsing through the woods right now in the dark, to be alone. To think. To run._

_Since finding his mum and dad he had been surrounded by police officers, investigators, family members, anyone that could dig their fingers into his skin. Squeeze out the story they wanted to hear but he didn’t have. Because the rumors were not true, he didn’t kill his parents, would never do that. And yet, everyone around him found that to be the easiest story to believe._

_Killian’s boots snapped twigs and crushed leaves as he walked toward the creek that lined Storybrooke. The path before him bathed in moonlight. The only sign of civilization was the quiet hum of a car every once in awhile from the freeway a few hundred feet away. He could run away from here, avoid anyone in this town, start a life over. He was 16 after all, could probably pass for 18 and find an apartment. From someone unsuspecting who would take cash payments and wouldn’t ask questions. A place where no one thought he was a murderer._

_It was then that he noticed he wasn’t alone._

_“You shouldn’t be out here all alone, you know. There’s a killer on the loose,” Killian said from behind her. Long blonde hair was all he saw, then the profile of her face as she turned it just enough to see who she was. But he knew immediately who she was. The sheriff’s daughter. Emma Nolan. Perfect, just what he needed. Her running home to tell her father she saw Killian Jones lurking around in the woods._

_“Everyone seems to think it was you. What’s to say the killer isn’t standing behind me right now?” she replied, completely taking him off guard. Not the typical response he had been getting from the town folk as of late. The girl, despite being younger than he, didn’t appear scared of him at all. She didn’t even turn completely to face him, just looked further out into the woods as if she was waiting for someone._

_Killian stepped a bit closer, intrigued by the fact that she was so collected. “Ah, I see. And are you a part of everyone?”_

_“Of course not, I’m capable of forming my own opinions.” That was when she turned to face him. He was taller than her, older than her, rumored to have committed a horrible crime. And yet she was unphased. Unwavering in her words. Was it possible she was the one person in this town who didn’t follow the path of what everyone else thought? That hadn’t jumped on the ‘Killian Jones must be guilty’ bandwagon?_

_“I’ll leave you be, then.” Killian turned on his heel, still in a bit of shock. But he didn’t want to push his luck. At the same time, he thought of the person who had actually done it. Whoever that person was who had killed his parents was very much so on the loose. Whoever that may be. And here was this young girl, alone in the woods. “Just be… careful.”_

_He walked away from her. Reluctant to leave her alone, but knowing it would probably be worse for both of them if he stuck around any longer. As he made his way back to the road, his apprehension had ceased just the smallest amount but he felt a lot of things instead._

_The most prominent of those emotions being hope. Hope that not everyone out there right now thought the worst of him._

Nearly twenty years later, he still held to that memory. The smell of bacon, crackling in the skillet brought him back to the present. In the kitchen of the home that belonged to the first person who believed in him all of that time ago. Emma. He was throwing together bits and pieces for a Sunday morning breakfast, his dog curled in a ball at his feet, Princess’s back against the white cabinets. Chocolate chip pancakes, wrapped with foil to stay warm and fresh. A bowl of mixed berries Killian had thrown together with what he found by way of produce in Emma’s fridge. Some scrambled eggs. 

It had been a little over two weeks since their first date that Thursday night. And since then, they hadn’t really spent many nights apart. Either she stayed with him in his hotel or he would stay in her house with her. They woke up together, next to each other. Wrapped in each other. Why spend the night time apart anymore when they didn’t have to? 

“Well this is nice to wake up to.” He heard a scratchy version of Emma’s voice from behind. The way her voice only sounded in the morning when she was still half asleep. 

Killian smiled as he turned to look at her, she stood in the entry to the kitchen. Never more beautiful than in the morning. Her hair turning back to its wild curliness from sleep, not a bit of makeup on. Dressed only in his t-shirt. A habit of hers, that he would happily oblige but was reserved for times like now when her son was with his father. 

“Good morning, love,” he said, stepping over his dog to hand Emma a mug of warm coffee he had ready. Killian leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. An imprinted pattern of the sheets still on her cheek. “Sleep well?” 

“No,” Emma replied with a devilish smirk on her face. Neither of them had. The two of them taking full advantage of coming home last night to Emma’s empty house. “Someone’s mouth woke me up very early this morning…”

She was referring back to a few hours ago, when Killian had awoke as the sun was coming up. With a very naked Emma curled into his side. Wanting to pay her back from the time she had woken him with her talented mouth, he slid himself under the covers. Kissing his way down her bare body, worshipping every inch of the creamy skin. It didn’t take long for her to realize what he was doing. Stirring before he could get his mouth around the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs. Emma instinctively wrapped her legs around his head, pulling him into her dripping center. Still under the sheets, he worked his tongue over her for what seemed like an hour as she begged him to let her come. He finally gave in, when he could no longer stand not to be inside of her. Bringing her to her peak with his tongue and then his cock. Before they fell back into sleep, sated and secure in each other’s arms. 

“I make no apologies for giving a woman what she begs for.” His hands rested on her hips now, as she pressed against him. His thumbs just above where the hemline of his t-shirt ended. 

“I don’t recall any begging….” 

“Would you care to be reminded then?” He rolled his hips into her and she hitched her breath. Her back was pressed against the counter, and in seconds he had her sitting on top of the surface with her legs wrapped around him again. Killian kissed her passionately, getting carried away and exploring her mouth with his. He wanted her to feel every inch of him. But then a smell crept into his nostrils that wasn’t Emma’s sweet aroma. The burning bacon. 

“Bloody hell!” he yelled. Leaving the spot between Emma’s welcoming legs to tend to the meal he was in the middle of preparing on the stovetop. The bacon was burnt to a crisp, and the whole downstairs smelled of it. Killian held the skillet in his hand and turned to face Emma, still sitting on the island’s countertop. “I’m sorry, darling. There are some other things for us to eat while I prepare some new bacon.” 

“Killian,” Emma’s voice was soft as she rested a hand on his wrist. “It’s okay don’t worry about it. There’s plenty of food here without it.”

Her smile was warm, kind. Like she was. Emma knew he was nervous for today. That had been why he kept her awake. His mind was restless for what was to come. For one thing, tomorrow, Monday, was the first day of Gold’s trial. In addition to that, Killian was meeting with Grace this afternoon. 

“Thank you, for making it, Killian. Everything looks delicious.” She tugged him closer to press a sweet, reassuring kiss on his lips before hopping off the counter to grab some of the food he had prepared in the wake of his anxiety. 

 

Killian rode in the passenger seat of Emma’s yellow bug, the grip of her right hand on his left was the only thing keeping him grounded in the moment. He tried to focus on the trees passing by, the long stretch of highway in front of them, the bright sun hanging above in the Sunday afternoon sky, the squirrel that he noticed running across the road. But the truth was, little else could ground him in the moment other than knowing Emma was here with him. The truth was he was bloody nervous. 

He was nervous because, in about five minutes, he would be sitting across a table from Grace. Milah. The woman who had been married to his parents’ murderer. The woman who he had fallen in love with. The woman who had sent clues to implicate her ex-husband for the murder. The woman he hadn’t spoken to since she had claimed his heart and then returned it with more damage than he was even aware of at the time. And next to him, was the woman who had helped him repair it. 

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Killian,” Emma said from the driver’s seat. She squeezed his hand just a bit tighter. 

“I think I have to, love.” Killian wasn’t sure if he was trying more to convince Emma of it or himself. “Besides when the trial starts, I’m going to have to see her anyway. I’d rather do this on my own terms first.” 

The trial would begin tomorrow. The past two weeks being used to make arrangements, cut deals, assemble legal teams, the works. This case had grown to encompass a lot of moving parts and though Robert Gold was still locked away, there were other people that needed to be worked with as well. One of them being Killian’s ex-girlfriend. 

Today wasn’t the first time he had seen her, speaking to Grace, yes but physically seeing her, no. The day after his and Emma’s first date had been the first. 

_Now that Gold was back behind bars until the trial, Killian and Liam had to go into the station. A formality to let them know that Gold had been caught and the team knew who had been sending the clues. He supposed under normal circumstances this would have been a surprise. But seeing as how Killian was romantically involved with the woman who had all but solved the case, it was a tad anti-climatic. He had known everything for several days._

_Despite that, Liam’s knowledge was limited and they needed to meet with Regina anyway to discuss the next steps they would have to take to end this once and for all. As well as meet for briefing with the prosecution team. So Killian went and met with them, the group that no longer included Emma. And after talking to the sheriff, her father, and the man from the Boston team, Killian was about ready to never see the inside of this building again._

_That was when he saw her. Out of the corner of his eye, the flash of brown curly hair. It was only for a second that their eyes locked. Her sharp, distinct features still familiar to Killian even now. But before he could process what he had seen she was gone. Disappeared into another room in the hallway with other officers. And Killian was stopped in his spot, until Liam pushed him along to leave._

After that day Killian had doubted whether or not he wanted to sit down with her. Emma had encouraged him, being the morally upright human she was. She told him that if he heard Grace’s side of things he would better understand. 

“We’re here,” Emma said, bringing him out of his daze. He looked down at his hand, still connected to hers. The woman he was in love with, and whom he wanted nothing more than walk right into their brilliant future together. But there were things, people, situations that needed to be faced first. One of them, awaited on the other side of the doors of this coffee shop they were in the parking lot of. 

“You don’t have to wait for me, Emma. I can always have Liam come get me.” 

“I want to. I trust you, but I want to be here. I brought a book, I have a cup of coffee. I’ll be fine.” She had parked far enough away that her car wasn’t in direct view of the coffee shop. If it were anyone else, it would be safe to assume she was lingering due to jealousy. Fearing the reunion of two ex’s. But Killian knew better than that. Emma was simply here to make sure he knew she was in his corner. “I love you, and I think you will feel a lot better after you do this.” 

He knew Grace and Emma had met. The night Emma caught Gold apparently had started off very differently than it had ended. He found it hard to picture the two interacting. Emma and Grace. Two complete opposites coming to an understanding. 

“I love you,” he replied, brushing a finger underneath her chin to pull her head toward his to kiss her. The soft feel of her lips beneath his. Something he could be happy to do for the rest of his life. 

 

Inside the coffee shop, Killian ordered a decaffeinated tea. He was nervous enough as it was he didn’t need anything else to fuel the jitters. Only a few people were seated at the small, wooden tables. A person on their laptop typing away. A couple sitting across from one another, laughing and smiling. Then he saw her. Seated alone at a high top table near where the packets of sugar and straws were. Grace. 

Killian took his tea from the barista behind the counter, the warm plastic cup heating his hand. Before he could talk himself out of it he walked over to the table where she sat. Their eyes once again locking. Her hair was tied back in a bun, her face almost nearly the same as before. It was hard to fathom that she was nearing 60 years old, because she didn’t look like it. 

“Hi,” she said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. 

“Hi,” he said back, hoping his voice didn’t sound too off kilter. “I didn’t know what you would want so I only ordered the one drink…” 

“It’s alright, I have my own.” Grace lifted a plastic cup from the table. An iced coffee. The cubes rattling around in the half empty glass. “Please, sit down.” 

Killian supposed he had hesitated before sitting down across from her. They were next to a window and he wondered if Emma could see them from her car. 

“I think that I owe you an explanation,” she started. Killian noted her expression, it was remorseful almost. Saddened. He wondered what his looked like in comparison. “First of all I want you to know that when we were together I had no idea my ex-husband was… that he was the one who…”

“Murdered my parents?” 

“I really didn’t.” 

Killian already knew this, it was the one part of Grace’s story that Emma had informed him of. And if anyone was capable of picking out a lie it was Emma. But even he could tell it was the truth. At least, that was the scenario he most wanted to believe. 

“I know, Grace,” he felt his throat tighten on the word. “Or… Milah, I suppose?” 

“My middle name is Grace,” she offered. “I went by that name in the town where I grew up. My mother named me after her. Milah. So when I lived at home it was just easier to call me by my middle name.” 

“I see.” He watched her, waited. She was the one who was coming clean not him. 

“I only found out about my ex-husband… the day I ended things with you, Killian.” She looked pained. Ignoring the beverage in front of her while Killian used his as a comfort. “When Belle came to me and told me she was experiencing the same things I was in my marriage all of those years ago we put the pieces together.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember that when I told you the circumstances that I returned to London?” 

Vaguely, Killian remembered a conversation where she had told him of her illness. Needing to come back and live with her mother. He nodded. 

“It turned out that those symptoms were… induced by a poison.” 

From there she launched into the sad tale. The decision to leave her son and husband. The fear of returning after she had healed. The loneliness she had felt for much of her life. As wild as it all sounded, it was easy for Killian to believe. Mostly because Emma had warned him of the story’s believability. Each time he began to doubt her circumstances, Killian remembered what a monster Robert Gold was. The things he had been capable of, the damage he had done over the years. And by the end of the story, Killian looked at Milah Grace and realized there was no way he could doubt her. 

“You’ll probably hear all of that during the trial, but I just wanted it to come from me I suppose.. I’ve owed you an explanation for a while now, Killian.” 

“I had… no idea.” His tea had gone cold now. 

“When we met, I was so lonely. And lost.” Her face softened, her expression going from the furrowed brow sadness she had for the past half an hour while she told him her story. “I know we were nowhere near perfect but… our time together it gave me hope.” 

Then he looked at her, really did. 

“I will forever be sorry for the pain that I’ve caused you. I thought that breaking it off on a lie was the right thing and now the more I say it out loud the stupider that choice was. But I knew that if I told you, that you would...” 

“Try to continue to make it work?” he said, guessing that’s how she had rationalized it in her head. She was probably right though. She said she was lonely when they met, but so was he. 

“Yes. Despite the circumstances, there were other red flags.” 

Killian looked down at his shoes. Staring into the black leather, remembering all of the fighting that went on. The disconnect between what he wanted and what she wanted. The night she finally left, he had probably believed it to have been the real cause of the relationship’s demise was that in some way it was. It was easy to believe because it wasn’t a lie. Her words before she had left their shared flat still ringing in his head. 

_We aren’t right for eachother, Killian. We never were._

“It’s not that I never loved you, I did,” Killian spoke. Cautious, not wanting to linger too long in this. “But I think that we were both looking for something in each other that wasn’t there.” 

“I know.” 

“Are you happier now?” he asked. Remembering how sad she had been, how lonely. The truth was, he didn’t have to ask. It was something he could see in her face. The same way she could probably see it in his. 

“I’m getting there. The man who I was married to who manipulated and hurt me… your mother, and Belle, for a long time is locked away.” And then she smiled. “I’ve found a friend in her, someone who understands. My son… I’m beginning to have a relationship with my son again. There’s a future for me, one that includes a family.” 

Neal. The child she had left behind when she thought it would be best if she were gone. 

“And you?” Her expression bore the understanding of someone he could forgive. Emma, of course, had been right about meeting with his ex-girlfriend. “Are you happier now?” 

“I am.” He didn’t want to dive into all of the details of why he was happier. Though she probably knew anyway. 

 

A little while later, the conversation lulled into silence. It was over. All of it. At least between them it was. They both stood from the coffee shop table, Killian thinking to himself that he didn’t resent her anymore. He held no anger for Milah Grace. It would be a waste of energy to hold onto that. A lot had occurred in his life that could warrant clinging to anger. They were better off without each other, and that was okay. The tattoo of her name on his wrist would be covered in time, he would put something else over it. The loose ends were being tied. 

“She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” Milah said as they stood on the curb outside of the coffee shop. Killian followed her gaze over to Emma’s parked car in the corner of the lot. She was visible from where they stood, in her bright yellow car, reading a book and sipping on what was probably now cold coffee. 

“I know.” 

“The night that she caught me along with Belle… she could have been difficult with me. But she was understanding and kind. I don’t know a lot of people who would do that… given the circumstances.” 

Killian felt his cheeks grow warm. He knew how incredible Emma was, every day with her was living proof of what an amazing person she was. But hearing others talk about her in that light, and of all people his ex-girlfriend, that they saw what he did was always something that made him beam with pride in her. His Emma. 

“None of this would have happened without her,” he said, feeling the need to proclaim it especially now that she was suspended from her job. 

“Belle said the same thing when we were deciding whether or not to go through with things. With the plan to not directly go to the cops.. We worried if anyone would want to solve it or if it would just fall through the cracks again...” Milah pulled a set of keys from her bag. “Belle said there was one woman in particular on the police force that would figure it all out.” 

Again his cheeks were warm. She caught him smiling. 

“Take care of yourself, Grace,” he said with conviction. Killian stepped off of the curb, hoping that Grace understood that he had forgiven her. He turned back again, looking at the woman who he had once thought was his future. When in reality their destinies were forked paths. “I wish you all the best.” 

“You too, Killian.” She nodded in understanding. The book of Killian and Grace closing as they went their separate ways, in the direction of their respective futures. 

 

**Emma’s POV**

The next morning, the morning of the trial, Emma and Killian had both awoken before the sun even came up. Now they sat half up in Emma’s bed, staring straight ahead at their clothes they had set out the night before, hanging on the back of the closet door. 

Killian’s navy blue suit, white shirt, and tie. 

Emma’s cream skirt and blazer. 

Side by side the colors looked nice next to each other, but in truth Emma and Killian would be nowhere in the vicinity of one another. That was made very clear in preparation for the trial. Unless they wanted to be completely ridiculed in the press, they had to stay away. At least in front of the prying eyes of cameras. 

“I suppose today’s the day,” Killian said not looking away from where the clothes hung. 

“We’ve got about four hours before we have to be there.” Emma turned to look up at him, her head still resting on the pillow. “You’re not in this alone, Killian.” 

“I just wish I could have you next to me while I do it,” he said, shifting so he faced her. But they both knew it wouldn’t go over well. There were too many connections. His hands wrapping around her to pull her close. She nuzzled into him, his body warm and comforting. 

“I know.” Emma pressed a kiss to his lips, and tucked her head beneath his chin as they lay there in silence. 

They stayed like that for a while. The quiet of the morning before the rest of the world was awake. They had even beat the sun. But eventually they had to face what was coming, and the sooner this trial began the sooner it could end. 

“You’ll be the most handsome man in the courthouse.” Emma straightened Killian’s tie, smoothing over the fabric. His features wrought with worry. Nevertheless he grabbed her hands and held them in his. 

“At the very least I know you’ll be somewhere in that room today with me.” 

“Of course.” Her hands went around his neck and leaned into him. The left, drifting back over his tie. It was so rare he wore one, normally just a suit and dress shirt. But it looked incredible on him. The blue bringing out his eyes. His hair slicked back, black as night. His beard trimmed. No wonder people couldn’t stop taking pictures of him. The tie was a nice addition. The deep blue checkered silk pattern was threaded in such a way that her fingers were distracted by it. The familiar feeling...

“This is the one…” she started but he finished for her. 

Bending just slightly to whisper in her ear, his lips brushing the skin below where a simple gold earring dangled, “Yes, my love, it’s the one I tied you up with.” 

Emma’s whole body tingled, she wanted him so badly but they hardly had time. Her mind raced back to the night he had come here after being away for the weekend in New York, the night he had fucked her against the pillar of her bed. Her arms wrapped behind her back, it had seemed so long ago but she could feel that very silky tie now beneath her fingers, wrapped around her wrists. Restraining her. 

Killian gave a soft nibble to her ear, just enough to bite, before pulling back. Judging from the look on his face he was proud of himself. He always took on a new level of arrogance when he could arouse her so quickly. Like he just had. 

“I may be the most handsome man in the room today but you are by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, darling. If I can’t show you off to the world yet then I want you to be reminded of us together when you look at me.” 

Emma bit her lip glancing up at him. This dark and brooding man she loved. She felt her cheeks redden. The blush coloring her skin as his hand came up to cup her cheek. Killian dragged her toward him, their lips meeting. The kiss no longer soft and chaste but possessive. Like they wanted to taste each other all day. Like they were just two regular people, a nauseating couple, kissing one another before going off to work on a Monday morning. 

“God, I love you,” he growled against her lips. The promise of what was on the other side of this thing, she knew what he was doing by wearing the tie. Looking forward. 

“I love you, too,” Emma breathed, not wanting to leave his embrace. And from the way he held her close it seemed he didn’t want to either. But eventually the honk of a horn sounded, Liam had arrived to pick Killian up to go to the courthouse. 

“I’ll see you later, love.” Killian kissed the top of her head, the tender gesture causing her heart to ache. 

“Can’t come soon enough,” she said back. 

With that, he was gone. She waved to Liam, who had his wife in the car as well. For a split second Emma was jealous of Laura. She got to walk in with Liam, holding his hand. Supporting him every step of the way. And while Emma knew there was an expiration date on the hidden part of their relationship it didn’t make her any less sad that she couldn’t do that for Killian. 

Emma watched alone in the doorway as the Jones brothers drove off. About to spend the rest of the public trial period pretending like Killian Jones hadn’t completely won her heart in the best way. 

 

Emma sat in the back of the courtroom. The trials had been going on for over a week now, an end in sight. Part of her knew that the process was being dragged out solely to feed the media frenzy that the case had incited. Storybrooke had never been more packed with people. Everyone had wanted a taste of it. True crime was all the rage, Emma herself was guilty of binging Netflix series about gruesome acts; the underbelly of society. The stories that begged to be uncovered. But it made everything far more different when people she loved were at the center.

The first day of the trial, had been excruciating. Between Emma having been called to the stand as a witness. Looking on toward a sea of people who wanted the whole story. Watching as Neal spoke about his mother… and then his father. Watching as the two women who had brought this whole case to light from the darkness, Milah and Belle, were criticized and then sympathized with. Killian and Liam, having to listen to every painful detail of their past dragged forward. And the worst of it all was that the whole time, Robert Gold looked on as if it were inconvenient for him to be there. As if he had some superiority to the rest of the world because he had gotten away with it for so long. Emma seethed with anger each time she saw him. The sickening smile he gave her when she was at the stand. 

“Miss Nolan is it correct that you were the one who apprehended Robert Gold after his escape from holding?” the prosecutor asked, a short balding man with a loose suit and change in his pockets that jingled when he walked. She had seen him plenty of times before, he had worked tirelessly with Killian and Liam to prepare for the trial. 

“Yes,” she replied. Trying not to make eye contact with Gold. It would only infuriate her more. 

“And at any time during that encounter did he come off as apologetic, remorseful?” 

“No.” Foolishly Emma looked at Gold. “At that time he had kidnapped his own son and tied him up to distract police from actually finding him.” 

The rest of her questions were flat. Technical. A generic police witness. And they used her since she had the most knowledge in the matter. She was almost waiting to be asked about Killian. Waiting for Gold’s lawyer to swoop in and expose their relationship. But it never came. 

At first she wondered. Perhaps he had a change of heart, perhaps he knew he had lost and had given up on destroying the lives of others. But then another week went by and the morning paper came. 

“Unbelievable,” Emma slammed the printed evidence on the kitchen table. The glasses shook, Emma’s coffee spilled over the rim just a bit. The article header read: Jones Case Closed, Love Is In The Air!

And right below, amongst other photos of case related sites, was a picture of the two of them, sitting in a car, Emma’s car, with their faces only inches apart. Clearly about to go in for a kiss. From the look of things it was from a while ago. Probably the earlier days of the case. The person waiting to use it when the iron was hottest.

“Emma, we aren’t doing anything in the picture,” said Killian. He came from behind her, wrapping his arms around Emma’s waist. Still she was furious. Knowing it was probably Gold. Or his lawyer. 

“Nothing like murder to bring people together,” Emma read from the article. “Deputy Sheriff Emma Nolan and Killian Jones got cosy during the hunt for who stabbed Moira and Brennan Jones on September 16, 1997. Twenty years have gone by since the most brutal murder in all of Maine making this a cold case that’s heating up.” 

It was a trash piece. A hate column. Right up there with the who’s dating who of the society world, which politicians were caught having affairs. All of the work she had put in. All of the effort, the hunting, the late nights. None of it mattered. Because all she was now was the cop who fell for the client. 

“Don’t let it get to you.” Killian’s hands ran up and down her arms. 

“Yeah, well, you’re not the one whose career is on the hook for this.” 

“Emma…” he started. But she didn’t want to argue with him. It was bad enough there were rumors about them, now it would all be confirmed thanks to this article. 

“Let’s just… we have to get going. You don’t want to be late.” Emma made her way upstairs to get dressed. How mad could she possibly be? It’s not like the article was a lie, he had slept over last night. She was wearing his fucking shirt. She could still feel Killian’s hands on her. Maybe it would all be okay if everyone knew...

 

The courtroom was still packed. The stuffy air pulling little beads of sweat to the surface of everyone’s skin. People were using papers to fan themselves, provide some sense of relief from the sticky July air. Emma looked toward the witness stand where she knew Killian would be called to any moment now. It was the last straw, the stake in the coffin that would bury Robert Gold in a maximum security prison far away for the rest of his life. Maine didn’t have the death penalty.

For days on end every agonizing detail of the murder of Brennan and Moira had been recounted. The scrutiny of it all as the darkest part of Killian and Liam’s life replayed in front of a room full of people. And all Emma could do was watch as her love’s crystal blue eyes went from glassy with tears to dark with anger. One of the first days she had sat near to Liam’s wife, but after feeling paranoid that everyone was judging her she chose to sit on her own the following day.

Emma focused on all that mattered right now, Killian as he made his way to the witness stand. Liam wasn’t as comfortable with public speaking, so Killian had offered to do the final words. For someone about to close out the trial for the most gruesome crime in the history of Maine, in front of the hundred or so people in the room plus the people watching the live broadcast from their living rooms, he seemed calm. But that was the thing with him, he kept his calm even though Emma knew he was probably shouting inside. She knew he had notecards in his suit jacket pocket, she had felt them a few hours ago when she had helped him put it on, smoothing her hands over the front, feeling his warmth beneath her palms. The electric buzz from touching him.

“For the entirety of my adult life I’ve lived without a mother and father. At sixteen, coming home to find them both dead was not something I could have ever predicted. That night is what I consider to be the worst of my life. The lowest I have ever felt, was seeing my parents on the floor of the bedroom, life ripped from them at the hands of Robert Gold. And for the entirety of my adult life, this man walked free.” Killian’s arm extended in the direction of Gold. The man in question sitting with a defense team, wearing a jumpsuit, ready to assume the position he deserved for the rest of his life. A prisoner.

“He lived here, in a small town, among all of you. While my brother and I spent our days wondering who could have done such a thing, here he was. While I faced judgement from everyone around me who thought I had been capable of such an act. While after my name was cleared, we still had to endure the painful years of age. Liam and I went through the milestones of growing up, without a mother or father to be there to see it. To see Liam get married, or me graduate from high school.”

He was quiet for a moment, and it was then that Emma noticed just how silent the room was. Even the fanning papers had stopped.

“Most moments of my days are spent wondering what if? What if they were still alive? What would they think of my life? Would be one of those families who are far in each other’s business or respects their space? Would my mother still draw me a birthday card every year, though I’m in my thirties now? Would my father have bestowed upon me the knowledge of his business savvy? Would they be doting grandparents to Liam’s children? Would they insist we come to their house on holidays? Would they approve of the woman I love? What would it be like? What would it have all been like?”

His voice gave way to the slightest shake before Killian met her eyes. All Emma wanted to do was run to him. Comfort him in any way she could. But there was no way that could happen at the moment, and silently they both realized that while their eyes remained locked. Then, he looked away, finishing what he had started.

“The list could go on and on, of all the things my brain has wondered. He shattered lives, manipulated everyone in his wake, annihilated other human beings and walked away clean for nearly twenty years. He ruined my family, his family, others, from the carnage of his actions. It’s time he faced the long overdue consequences of those actions. On behalf of my family we ask that you keep all of this in mind while reaching your decision. Thank you.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Jones. That is all,” the man from the prosecution team said finally. Emma kept her eyes matched with Killian’s as he made his way back to the seat next to Liam. Now all there was to do was wait.

It wasn’t long before the verdict was reached. Gold had plead guilty, in an attempt to achieve a lighter sentence but it was to no avail. Robert Gold was to serve the rest of his life behind bars without parole. For murder in the first degree (among other charges). Emma released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. And it seemed the courtroom around her did as well. The room collectively breathing as justice was actually reached and the town of Storybrooke could close this horrific chapter in its history.

As much as it was a relief for it to have ended, it didn’t correct any of the wrong that had been done. Killian and Liam had still lost their parents, Neal had lost all he had ever seen in his father, and Moira and Brennan Jones would never be brought back to life. 

“Emma Nolan?” she heard a woman’s voice behind her. Soft. One she didn’t recognize. She spun around, amidst all of the people milling about in the hall. “I was wondering if I might have a word with you?” 

Emma took in the woman. Ice blonde hair tied into a braid. Powder blue suit. Angular face. Probably some reporter. Wanting to get a statement on the article that had been released about her and Killian. Internally she rolled her eyes. Externally she remained hard as a stone. 

“My name’s Elsa. Elsa Frost.” Sounded like a fake name. “I was wondering if you were in the market for a new job…” 

“Not at the moment, I’ve got my hands full.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest. Defensive. Unsure. But for whatever reason she didn’t feel the woman had bad intentions. 

“Well, should that change, feel free to give me a call.” The woman reached in her bag and handed Emma a small business card. “I’ve been following your work on this case for a while now and I think you would be a perfect fit for what we do…” 

As quickly as she had appeared, she left. The shock of blonde hair disappearing into the crowd of people. Emma remained in her spot, taking a look at the business card in her hand. All white with blue letters. 

Elsa Frost, Private Investigator

And beneath was the phone number where the woman could be reached. A local one. Emma folded it in half and slid it into the pocket of her dress pants. 

“Emma!” she heard her name again. This time a familiar voice. One she could distinctly, in this case, pick out of a crowd. 

“Killian!” she called back, moving toward where his voice had come from. Emma found him halfway. Pushing through people left and right to get to him. When she did she threw her arms around him, remembering the look on his face not even an hour ago when he stood in front of the judge and spoke. So in that moment, in the sea of people, Emma embraced him. 

At first he stiffened, aware that they were surrounded by people. But after a second he wrapped his arms around her. Emma had to stand on her toes for her mouth to be next to his ear but she did it, just so she could whisper an “I love you, and I’m so proud of you” into it. 

Emma felt him smile at her words, holding her tighter. 

“I couldn’t have gotten through any of this without you, darling,” he whispered back. His hand cupping the back of her head as it rested on his shoulder. “All of your work…”

“Quite the pair, aren’t we?” she said, repeating his favorite sentence to use. Even before they technically were a pair. He smirked, pulling back to look at her. 

“Aye.” His gaze shifted though, from Emma to the people moving around them. “I hate to break this to you, love. People are starting to stare.” 

“Let them. Let’s go home.” Emma took his hand in hers and began walking through the crowded hallway. Despite the stares she leaned closer to Killian. It didn’t matter. Gold was gone. The case was solved. Emma had a new career path to consider. All she wanted to do was walk out of this courthouse and get home to her son. 

Emma slipped her sunglasses on as they were about to walk out the doors. Killian by her side, as it should be, her grip on his hand tightened. He lifted her wrist to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin, igniting the butterflies in her stomach that never fully went away with him. 

Despite the chaos that ensued when they opened the doors and revealed themselves in the light of day. The July heat filling everyone’s bones. The yelling of the people waiting on the stairs for the final verdict. The news crew trucks surrounding the perimeter. Microphones shoved in their direction. Emma felt at ease next to Killian. With their fingers linked together, her shoulder brushing his, she walked confidently beside him toward her car. 

 

After causing an uproar at the courthouse, Killian and Emma had left together. With the comforting hand of her lover and the prospect of having a nice home cooked meal with her family, she felt peace. 

Henry and Killian cooked together, whipping up some form of chicken in a garlic sauce Emma hadn’t the slightest clue how to even assist. She did set the table though, choosing to do simple white dishes and a centerpiece of sunflowers. It was probably the most domestic task she was capable of. As the food was almost done, a knock sounded on the front door. 

“I’ll get it,” Emma said, knowing it was Neal. She knew he was staying in a hotel, and even though he declined to stick around to eat she still offered to give him some of the food. She hadn’t seen him for a few days. It was hard for him to be in the courthouse. 

“How are you holding up?” she asked Neal once he was inside the foyer. She handed him the carefully wrapped plate of food. Still warm from the oven. 

“As best as can be expected… given the circumstances…” he said back. A sadness to his face that lingered, ever since his father had been discovered weeks ago. 

“Have you talked to your mom today?” 

“No, she’s still in holding. They’re transferring her in a few days. Then she’ll have phone access.” Milah and Belle had been charged for withholding information, the lightest possible sentence thanks to Emma having Graham cut a deal with the district attorney. They would be locked up for five years. Eligible for parole in three for good behavior. Probation to follow. 

“She wanted me to tell you thank you.” Neal shuffled his feet, and at the mention of his mother his face lost a bit of the sadness just for a moment. “And I wanted to thank you, as well.” 

“I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. I’m so glad you and her are reconnecting… making up for lost time.” 

“Me too.” He smiled, “Have a nice night, Em. Tell Henry thanks for the food.” 

“What, like I couldn’t have made this?” she joked. 

“Not that I like doubting you, but I think we both know you didn’t make this.” 

“You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” Emma offered. Knowing that Neal was aware of Killian in the kitchen with his son. Their son. 

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ll catch up with Henry tomorrow.” She thought she had made it out without him saying anything but then Neal turned on the last step off the porch and said, “Tell Killian I said hello.” 

His tone wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t angry. It was… understanding.

“I will… take care of yourself, Neal.”

“You too, Em.” 

 

“Have you thought anymore about where you want to take a vacation to, kid?” Emma asked as the three of them sat around the table in the kitchen. The sky just beginning to fade from blue to purple, providing just enough light that they could eat by candle. “I’ve got some time.” 

“I thought it would be cool to go somewhere far. We redid our passports last year and haven’t used them…” 

“Okay, what about Canada… or somewhere warm like Mexico?” she offered, slicing the chicken and taking a bite. It really was delicious, she could get used to eating meals Killian and Henry made. They clearly worked well together. “Ireland?” 

“The two of you could come to London?” Killian said, chiming in after being a bit quiet during the discussion. She knew he felt weird about not wanting to intrude and the dynamic she and Henry had. It would take time. 

“I haven’t sold my flat yet,” his finger scratched behind his ear as he looked at Emma, “it is on the market though.” 

She smiled. She knew very well that it was on the market. It was cute when he got a little nervous. 

“You could stay there for free. Then travel about as you please.” He looked at Henry, “transportation is relatively easy, and it’s a lovely place to go.” 

Emma kept her eyes on Henry, gauging his reaction. And wondering why she hadn’t come up with the idea before...

“That would be really cool,” Henry said, a smile on his face. Emma watched as the two looked at each other, and regretted there was ever a time she felt it necessary to keep them apart. However nervous Killian felt about encroaching on her life here, it appeared as though he would fit nicely not so much as a replacement but as an addition. “You would come too right?” 

Then Killian looked a bit startled, and he turned to Emma. 

“Of course he would come, if we’re staying at his place,” she said as she sipped her glass of wine before setting it next to the bright sunflowers she had set out. “That is, as long as he doesn’t mind playing tour guide for a few days…”

“It would be my pleasure.” Killian smiled, raising his glass in her direction before taking a drink. 

 

After dinner the three of them spent some time outside with Princess. Claiming the remaining light of the day to throw a tennis ball around a field for Killian’s dog. When it was too dark to see the ball anymore, they returned to the house, Henry heading up to his room, Killian and Emma settling onto the couch for a glass of wine. 

They talked lazily about anything. TV. Books they wanted to read. Places they hadn’t been. Places he wanted to take she and Henry in London. Light topics to fill the air. The living room cosy and lit by dimmed lights. Emma’s legs rested across Killian’s, his hand rubbing circles on her skin. 

“On a serious note, love, there is something I would like to talk you about.” 

“What is it?” she asked, trepidacious because as she looked at the profile of his face he appeared tense. Her hand automatically when to cover his that rested on her knee. The warmth spreading up her whole arm. 

“Well, I’ve been thinking for a while and I’ve been considering…” He looked nervous as his eyes met hers. “I’ve been thinking of going to see a therapist.” 

Emma breathed. She was so used to bad things happening on a whim, and so was he, that it was almost natural to assume the worst. But this wasn’t the worst. Her hand tightened on his, silently urging him to continue. 

“The night my parents died… I was angry with them. That was why I had left the house in the first place, I couldn’t stand to be around them. Never did it occur to me that it would be the last time I would hear them speak at all…” He had never brought it up before, not on his own at least. The guilt he felt for being angry with them. He took a sip of his wine, the red staining his lips as he looked out the front window to where the summer fireflies lit the sky.“Not that you haven’t helped me, and been incredible but I just think it would be good to do. To talk to someone.” 

“Hey,” she said, turning his head toward her again. The muscles in his jaw loosening as he faced her. “I think it’s a great idea, Killian.” 

He softened. Emma wasn’t a therapist, not by any stretch of the imagination. Killian’s life had consisted of a lot of heartbreak. While they were now in a relationship. One consisting of love and support and passion and honesty, she wasn’t inclined to believe that all of the damage from his past would go away overnight. Killian handled everything so stoically most of the time, so it was easy to forget that he lived with those demons every day. 

“You always have my support,” she said taking his head in her hands to pull him into her. Emma pressed a kiss to his soft lips. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…” 

Emma stood from the couch and went to find the business card. When she returned to the living room she handed it to Killian, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“This woman approached me today… after the trial.” Emma slowly knelt over him. Her legs stradling either side of him. “She said she was impressed with my work on the case and wanted to talk to me about working for her…”

Killian’s hands rested on her waist. 

“Of course she was impressed with your work. How could she not be?” he said, his thumbs soothing her hips. “Just because that story about us came out doesn’t mean it cancels out all of the work you did, love.” 

She blushed a bit and smiled. Knowing how easily he could read her every emotion, without her saying a word. It was incredible. To feel someone know you that well. 

“Emma Nolan, private investigator..” he said. And for some reason it was so lovely coming from his lips. “Sounds perfect.” 

 

Later that night, Emma’s head rested on Killian’s chest in bed, and she heard the mix of his beating heart with the cicadas outside the open windows. It was hard for her to believe the things that had led her to this place. A tangle of limbs and sheets in her bed on a summer night with a man who had only come back into her life a few months ago. 

Up until that point she could barely force herself to go on more than one date with the same guy let alone have a sleepover. She didn’t want anyone to meet her kid, and at that very moment her son was nestled in bed with Killian’s dog. And here she was, warm and safe in the arms of someone who did nothing short of worship her, and she the same for him. She was completely in love with Killian. 

It was then that Emma had another thought, as her nails drew patterns in Killian’s chest hair, watching the rise and fall of it as his slow, sleepy breathing. She thought, perhaps the hard part wasn’t accepting that this was her life now but that there was ever a time in her life when she didn’t have him in it. That it was far more difficult to picture the future without him than with him, something she had never once thought she would have.

 

**3 Months Later…**

Among other things, Emma had knots in her stomach. She had offered to drive to see the newest option for places Killian could live. Though it seemed silly to hunt anymore when he had all but moved in with she and Henry. Just after their two week trip to London with Henry, Killian had sold his flat. He had canceled his hotel suite outside of Storybrooke to stay in her home while they hunted for a place for him to live. So there wasn’t a real sense of urgency to find something. Still, Emma had noticed this place a yesterday and figured it couldn’t hurt to take him. 

“Almost there,” she said, getting more nervous with every bend in the road her little yellow bug took. It was Fall and the leaves had turned all different shades of red and yellow and orange. She had found this place on her drive home from work the day before. Her new job. Working as a private investigator for Frost & Associates. It was closer inland than Storybrooke, so there was a bit of a commute. Which Emma was trying each day to cut back the time on, that was when she found this place. Tucked away in the woods after making a wrong turn. Creating a beautiful scene for their backroad drive. Emma just hoped Killian felt the same way. 

When they pulled to a stop on the side of the road, Emma could sense Killian’s skepticism kicking in. Just as it had the past twenty houses and apartments they had seen. However, he said nothing because there was literally no house for him to comment on. 

Emma wrapped her oversized cardigan around her a bit tighter getting out of the car, grateful to have chosen thicker leggings when her jeans were just a tad bit snug. There was a chill in the air. When she rounded the car to the passenger side she took Killian’s hand, leading him forward into the grass. She could see the confusion on his face. His eyebrows pinching together as he looked at the surroundings. Leaves crinkling underneath their shoes, he followed her anyway. 

“Emma where are we, love?” he asked when she brought them to a stop. She could still see her car so they weren’t terribly far from the road. But most of what surrounded them were trees that reflected the autumn hues they had seen on their drive here. If they looked to the left they would see a view of the water, not the portion occupied by docks and ships but the part that was untouched by man, a sign that they were nearing Storybrooke. The coast lined with narrow, sand beaches too cold for this time of year. To the right was a wall of trees, their leaves falling in the wind. 

“Killian Jones you are a difficult person to find a home for,” Emma said, taking his other hand in hers and facing him. “So I thought that, maybe, we could build our own.” 

The confusion on his face morphed to realization as he once again looked to the surroundings. Only this time he was seeing what she saw. 

“That line of trees over there...” Emma pointed. “If you walk straight through the woods, for about 200 feet you’ll find the house Liam and Laura live in...” 

He was still dumbfounded, his eyes wandering from the sea to the line of trees that would separate he and his brother’s home. 

“It would still be in Henry’s school district, so he wouldn’t have to switch schools,” she continued. “I know you’ve always lived in the city but… here you could have your dog and she would have all this space to run around.” 

Killian looked at her, and this time he had nothing to complain about. No comment to make about square footage or commute or appearance. It was a blank slate where they could custom design their future, build their life together, however they wanted. 

“It’s perfect.” He squeezed her hands a bit tighter. A smile on his face that warmed Emma’s soul. He liked it. He really liked the idea. 

“We could build right here, put the things we’ll need. We aren’t far from the water so you could have a boat. We could build a nice kitchen for you and Henry, a fenced in yard for the dog, a real movie room….”

His eyes drifted down to her hands that he held, bringing them up to his lips. Pressing a kiss to her wrists. When she paused he looked at her expectantly. 

“A nursery…” Emma said, her throat getting a bit tight at the word. It wasn’t a question. 

His eyes widened. The blue so clear, the surprise on his face evident. Emma took his hands that held hers and rested them on her stomach, that just barely prevented her from wearing her jeans. 

“I’m pregnant.” She couldn’t help but smile as she said it. Because somehow verbalizing it, sharing the news she had been certain of for at least the past month, made it that much more real.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes now lined with a layer of tears. “How long have you…?”

“Yeah. I’m getting close to three months, if I had to guess.” 

Emma wasn’t completely confident in the exact time it had happened, seeing as how most nights they spent together turned into shared intimate moments. In truth there were few times they didn’t get carried away with each other. In bed. In the backseats of cars. In a park once during a picnic. Their most recent trip to Target… It was a wonder it hadn’t happened sooner. But after her second missed period she thought it would be best to take a test (or 15). Not wanting to go through the motions of telling Killian before she knew for sure. 

He didn’t say anything. Instead taking her by surprise, he lifted her feet from the ground and spun her in his arms. Pressing gentle kisses all along her skin. She held on as tight as she could, wanting to stay this way forever. An uncharacteristic giggle escaping her throat as she felt the tickle of his beard on her skin. 

He set her down finally and looked into her eyes with so much love and admiration she was surprised it didn’t knock her over. And she hoped her expression looked the same to him. 

“So you’re okay with this… with all of it?” she asked. Emma had been worried for a few days that it would be too much. Building a house together. A baby. Especially for someone who had been on his own for as long as he had. 

“Darling, I’ve never been so happy in my life as I am with you.” His hands were still on her stomach. They felt warm, and loving. “The only thing that could possibly top that would be to start a family of my own…” 

Emma knew he had avoided talking about having a baby. And she knew why, he was waiting for her. He knew she had a kid with another man. She and Neal had Henry. But the thought was never far from her mind. When she watched Killian spending time with Henry, or how he cared for his niece. It was hard not to imagine him doing the same with a child they had together. 

One of his hands left her belly, reaching up to cup her cheek. The other remained on her stomach, laying over the spot where their child was now growing. He bent his head down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before resting his forehead against hers. 

“We’re going to have a little one of our own.” The way Killian said it made her heart clench, like he needed to say it out loud to believe it for himself. 

“Mmhmm,” she muttered. Squeezing his hand that laid overtop of her belly. 

“I love you so much, Emma.” His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth and she felt her whole body tingle. Just the smallest touch. 

She couldn’t help but compare it to finding out she was pregnant the last time. Being 18 years old and beyond terrified. Now this time it didn’t seem so scary. But Henry had turned out to be such an amazing kid. He was the only person, other than Killian, who knew she was pregnant again. In fact he had been the first person she told. Henry was also the only other person who knew of her idea to build a house. 

“I love you, Killian.” 

Tears slipped from Emma’s eyes as he bent to kiss her again. Tasting the salt of the droplets as it slipped from her eyes to where their mouths met. Emma had never been much of a believer in soul mates…

But if she were, Killian Jones would without a doubt be hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and for the support that I have gotten throughout this story. At times its been hard to keep working on it while balancing the other things in my life. But overall its been such an amazing thing to do and to write. Only one chapter left, of this story, so we're at the tail end. Feel free to leave feedback and kudos and messages and whatever else. 
> 
> For the amazing banner work accompanying this story done by the talented @shady-swan-jones visit my tumblr @swanderful1 
> 
> P.S. the flashback scene in the beginning of this chapter is told from Emma's POV back in Chapter 2 :)
> 
> Once again thank you so much for reading!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the last chapter! I can't believe it's coming to an end, this story has been my baby for the past two years until I finally worked up the courage to put it on here. I am forever grateful for the kind and supportive responses that I have had on this story, makes it a bit easier to put my work out there. Feel free to leave comments or messages or whatever. I love hearing from people, even if it is the end. Thanks so much for taking the time to read!!!! 
> 
> Disclaimer: All rights to OUAT
> 
> Rating: M 
> 
> Word count: ~11,000

**One Year Later: October, 2018**

Six months had gone by since Emma had given birth to a seven pound, four ounce, beautiful baby girl. One that now slept in her arms as Emma rocked back and forth in the same chair she had held Henry in fourteen years ago. Dragged out of storage for their new house, it was one of the few things Emma kept from when Henry was a baby. The blue floral rocking chair now belonged in his little sister’s room. 

Anna Faith Jones. 

Anna because it was a simple, classic name Killian and Emma had both agreed on (and the closest Emma would get to letting Killian name the baby after her… having 2 Emma’s in the house was just out of the question). Then, Faith because it was the Latin meaning of the name Moira. 

Princess, the dog, was at Emma’s feet. She slept in the baby’s room as well, normally under the crib. As much as the dog had initially belonged to Killian, it was clear she had an unmatched loyalty to both Henry and Anna. Going back and forth between their bedrooms at night, watching as Henry caught the school bus each day, standing under Emma at the sink when she bathed Anna as if to catch the baby if she fell. 

“Love, why don’t you let her rest in the crib for a while.” Emma looked up to see Killian in the doorway of the baby’s room. The light was dim, a faint yellow glow from the lamp on the table next to where Emma sat. Even still Killian’s face looked exhausted. The bags under his eyes growing to be a deep purple. The normal stubble on his face a full beard now. 

Whoever said building a new house while pregnant was a good idea, was actually insane (she had, it was entirely her idea). The whole process had been far more work than anything she or Killian had ever tackled in their lives. 

Choosing a kitchen backsplash between ultrasounds. 

Rushing to meet the contractor for an emergency lighting decision after the baby shower. 

Prioritizing the nursery to be finished before any other part of the house. 

Moving herself, Killian, Henry, the baby, and the dog into a brand new home a month after giving birth. 

However, it was all worth it the second Emma stepped into her new home. Their new home. The sprawling blue victorian, with the giant front porch and turret, the structure facing the ocean so they had a view of the beach every day. All of the things they had talked about the day they had come here for the first time. When it was nothing more than a grass field. Every faucet, every piece of furniture, every doorway, was there because of Emma and Killian. Making the exhausting process worth it when Emma was able to walk through the front door and into their vision. The deep brown wood floors, with large area rugs so the baby could crawl on a soft surface. The marble kitchen, with white cabinets and a breakfast nook. The cozy living room that was now littered with toys and blankets and baby gates. The bedroom she and Killian shared, though most nights they found themselves falling asleep in Anna’s room. Their child hardly slept, rarely cried but wouldn’t sleep. She was always awake. So when she did sleep, Emma or Killian took full advantage and passed out on the nearest pillow. 

“I just don’t want to disturb her,” Emma whispered to Killian, and he smiled, walking over to where Emma rocked. He sat down on the ottoman in front of the chair, Emma noticing up close that his gray Oxford t-shirt was on inside out. 

“Why don’t you let me take over, and you can get ready for tomorrow,” he suggested after pressing a gentle kiss to his daughter’s forehead. 

Tomorrow. Emma’s first day doing field work. In her first few months working there, Emma had laid low. The buzz from the trial and the Jones case still fresh, she needed to be on the back burner for a while. Then after the baby, Elsa had been kind enough to let Emma do office paperwork when she had returned. Knowing that her job of chasing down criminals wasn’t your normal 9 to 5, and that Emma wanted at least some stability during the early months of having a newborn. It wasn’t like this when Emma had Henry, she had no choice, she was 19 years old, she had to work whatever job she had. But now she was older, and had enough money saved that she could take more time… 

Killian noticed Emma hesitate, slowly she handed the baby to him. As per usual he held Anna with the utmost of care before setting the sleeping child in her crib. 

“Come now, love,” Killian said taking her hands and pulling her to her feet. “By my calculations we have a full forty five minutes before she wakes up again.” 

Emma followed him out of the room, their bodies tired from sleep deprivation so they moved a bit slower these days. Killian had returned to work almost immediately after the baby was born. Being that he could make his own schedule, his job wasn’t as risky as Emma’s, and he also wasn’t breastfeeding. A task she had given up about one month in to Anna’s life, switching to formula. Nevertheless Killian was highly involved as a parent, despite his work in therapy he was still terrified that somehow he would wake up one day and turn into his father. 

“I know you’re nervous about returning to work…” He still held her hand, leading Emma to the master bathroom off of their bedroom. A gorgeous, spa-like place that had been mostly neglected for their first few months in the house. There wasn’t much time to utilize the jacuzzi tub when there was hardly five minutes to shower. “But everything here will be taken care of…” 

His hands on her shoulder led her to the part of the room with the tub. A white, porcelain masterpiece that, at the moment was surrounded by soft pink flowers and candles. 

“Killian…” she stammered, completely floored by how beautiful their bathroom looked. As of late the tub had become a dumping ground for dirty clothes and towels. “When did you…?”

“While you were with the little one, I figured you could use a bit of time,” he whispered in her ear. “The baby monitor is right there, so we will hear the second she makes a peep, love.” 

Emma spun in his arms, looking up at his tired, smiling face. She reached up and caressed his cheek, still feeling the spark that burned beneath her touch to him. Even sleep deprived, hair a knotty mess, sweatpants, and absolutely no makeup Emma found herself yearning for him. 

“We should get in, the water will run cold and the baby will be up in about forty one minutes now,” he joked, pulling Emma’s hair from the bun on top of her head. It fell in curls down her back as she stripped in front of him. She was well aware her body was no longer what it was before the baby. Her breasts swollen and heavy, her legs untoned, her stomach with faint stretch marks. As of one week ago she had gone back to running, on day’s when Killian worked from home and could watch Anna while she went. 

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen,” he said once he had removed his clothes as well. Killian took slow, measured steps toward her, his arms snaking around her effortlessly. “Yesterday, today, every day.” 

Emma felt her cheeks redden. Despite the fact that they had been given the greenlight to have sex again months ago, she was different now. When they had met, she had been a mother on her own for years. Killian and Henry got along very well, luckily. But now they had a child together as well. 

“I love you,” Emma said leaning in to kiss him. Their lips melted together, getting carried away in a kiss that could only be described as heated. Killian, without missing a beat, lifted Emma and wrapped her legs around his waist. She let out a giggle at the surprise. Then gently he lowered them together in the warm waters of the bathtub. 

Emma straddled him in the water, letting the lavender bath bomb create a layer of film on the surface. Her lips pressed against his, and his mouth opened granting her access to his tongue. They played with each other for a while. Their hands exploring one another, whispering each other’s names, messing around like two teenagers in the back of a car. Her hands slowly gravitated toward his now hardened length that rested between them. 

“Emma, darling, if you don’t slow down…” he breathed between kisses, Emma not really listening. Her hand grabbing on to his length. Her core ached for him, and he was so close. Their damp skin pressed to each other. 

“Need you… now….” she begged, her teeth claiming his bottom lip. Without another word he aligned himself to her entrance, surging forward into her where her walls clenched around him. 

“You feel amazing,” he groaned once inside of her. “So incredible.” 

Emma’s heart raced, he felt just as good. But he needed to move, she needed friction, her arousal making her desperate for him. Hands wrapped around his neck, they began to grind against one another, so roughly that the waters of the tub began to fly out the sides. 

“That’s it…” she moaned. “Killian….” 

Emma threw her head back, arching her back for a different angle. Killian went deeper, not asking for permission before quickening the pace. Their breath heavy they kept up with each other. Killian’s mouth nipping and biting down her neck to her breasts. 

“Mmmm,” a deep humming growl sounded from Killian’s throat. The sound that made Emma even more turned on in almost seconds. “You taste like cinnamon…”

Emma smirked, the feeling of his mouth on her skin it was right. The bite of his teeth, the caress of his lips. He was just the right amount of pleasure and pain. With each thrust of their grinding hips she felt herself climbing higher and higher. As much as she knew they didn’t have the luxury of dragging this out, she wanted so badly to linger in the moments before her climax. 

The moment when she and Killian ceased kissing, as they did right now, and looked into each other’s eyes. 

“Fall for me, darling,” he whispered, continuing to roll his hips into her. His cock filling her to the brim as she gave way to him. “That’s it, love… take it….”

She did as he said, milking him of all he had in him. Her walls fluttering around him as they crashed down together. 

Their breath was heavy in the air. The thick inhale and exhale that could only come from that kind of physical exertion. That had by far been the best round since the baby. Not that it had ever been bad, they certainly knew how to push each other’s buttons at this point. But especially in the first few weeks of their return to sexual encounters, Killian had been so tender with Emma. Scared to push too hard or hurt her in any way. He wouldn’t even touch her breasts until he was sure she wouldn’t be breast feeding anymore. 

Emma’s legs still straddled Killian, her body resting on top of his, her ear on his chest listening to his quickened heartbeat. 

“What are you so afraid of, my love?” he asked her after their breathing had slowed, his fingers dancing along her back in soothing motions. “I’ve never known you to be an overly cautious person.” 

“I don’t want to miss anything with her…”

“You worked when Henry was small,” he offered, his hands a comfort to her vibrating skin. 

“I also worked right down the street from where he went to daycare. I could walk to see him every 10 minutes if I wanted.”

He stayed silent, save for the gentle kiss he pressed to the top of her head. 

“I don’t exactly work a cubicle job, Killian. I can’t leave a stakeout to go see a dance recital. If anything happens to me…”

“Emma,” Killian’s fingers caught her chin and lifted her head so their eyes met. “You can’t live your life in fear. I know it’s scary, that anything can happen, but that’s true of any job. Life is inherently unpredictable.” 

“Why are you being so supportive?” She had wondered this to herself for a while now. Most partners would have absolutely not been okay with the mother of their child chasing down dangerous people. 

“Everyone’s different, love. And I feel at this point I know you well enough to see that you want to be back out there.” His hand toyed with the hair that fell along her shoulders. “Any time we watch a cop show your eyes light up.” 

Emma blushed again, she knew she was guilty of it. She wasn’t the most open of people, but with Killian, he just knew her. He read her like a book, and with that also knew when to keep an interpretation to himself. 

“Returning to work doesn’t make you a bad mother. Just as staying home and caring for your child doesn’t make you any less of a contributing society member. What’s right for everyone is different. But I don’t want you to regret anything. If it turns out your job isn’t what you want anymore, then we figure it out from there but not from a lack of trying.” 

“Thank you,” was all Emma said in reply. He was her rock, her support system, just as she was for him. It was a balance. 

“Besides… I quite like working from home and spending the day with the little one when I can,” Killian said with his face lit up. Anna wasn’t even a year old and already she had Killian wrapped around her finger. Even before Anna had been born, Killian was highly attentive to Emma’s growing belly. He would say good morning to the kicking stomach before he did anything else. It was evident the two were a lot a like. Killian and Anna. Though their daughter had Emma’s green eyes, she had Killian’s dark hair and his spirit. The two both quiet, stoic types. 

“Oh you do? I would have never guessed…” Emma thought back to last week when she had started running again, leaving the baby with Killian’s sister-in-law Laura. She was a stay at home mom and had offered to care for Anna when Killian couldn’t work from home or when Mary Margaret was teaching. But when Emma came home that day, Laura was gone but Killian was there and was carrying Anna from room to room singing her a lullaby. 

“She’s perfect,” he said, with the glow only a father referencing his child could have. 

“I agree,” Emma smiled back. “But we might be a little biased.” 

“Aye, just a bit.” 

“But if we keep this up we’re going to end up with ten kids,” Emma said, eyes glancing down to where their centers were still connected. 

“And is that such a bad thing?” His eyebrow went up in that suggestive way that it did when he was half kidding, half picturing the actual scenario he was joking about. 

As if on cue, the baby began to cry. The sound from the monitor filling the cavernous bathroom with the cries of their daughter. For the most part Anna was a quiet baby, but she did cry to warn them she had woken up. 

“I’ll get her, you get ready for your day tomorrow, my love.” Killian pressed a soft kiss to her lips, taking her hands in his before standing to get out of the tub. 

“Killian,” Emma said breathily pulling him a bit closer, looking up into his bright blue eyes. “Whether we have one kid or ten… it wouldn’t matter. You are still an incredible father.” 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, bending down to kiss her again. Emma knew it was the hardest job in the world for him, being a father, but also the one he cared most about. Inherently he wasn’t an uncertain person, but she could see it in his eyes. Every move with their daughter he second guessed himself. 

So when given the opportunity Emma did her best to remind him he was doing an amazing job, and that their daughter was lucky to have him as her dad. Sometimes it was hard to believe how far they had come. There was a point where it felt like the investigation, the media, the drama, the trial would never end. But in time all things have a cycle, and now here they were in their dream house. A new baby asleep in her nursery, Henry in his own room down the hall, it was surreal. 

Emma had never thought she could grow old with someone. She pictured herself on her own after she and Neal had ended things. She just didn’t have a spark with anyone, and she wasn’t about to settle. But then Killian had come along and suddenly there was a living, breathing exception to every rule she had blocked herself off with. Though some of the wounds of the past could never fully heal, for both of them, there was so much hope in moving forward. Together. 

 

**Four Years Later: September, 2021**

This time of year was always hardest on Killian, Emma knew that. But right now as she peaked out the living room window to see the beach not far from their house, the heaviness that the anniversary of Moira and Brennan’s death brought about, seemed to lighten for a little while. 

Princess, the dog, jumping in the water, the clouds opening to reveal a blue sky above, waves crashing onto the shore, and seeing Killian play with his three year old daughter in the sand. It was difficult to imagine a time he had ever been alone. It was even harder to imagine Killian without Anna sitting on his shoulders, where she was now, a spot she had claimed as her own the second she was able to sit up.

The day was warm for the beginning of autumn, so Emma had all of the windows open, letting in the fresh air. In with the wind drifted the perfect little laugh Anna had, just about the loudest sound she ever made. Their first daughter’s calm traits as a baby had carried through as she grew to a toddler. Anna had a maturity about her that most 3 year olds didn’t, she rarely cried but still never slept.

Their youngest daughter, Leila Elizabeth Jones, was another matter entirely. The one year old was stretched out on a blanket on the floor of the living room. A mobile of animal shapes swung above the bright, blue eyed child whose traits from Killian began and ended with the eyes. Leila’s little hands hit and grabbed each one of the floating shapes with all the might her tiny body could muster.

“She reminds me so much of you,” Mary Margaret said from the other side of the leather couch. Emma’s parents often came over on Sundays to see their three grandchildren. It was a way to stay involved in each other’s lives despite Emma not working for David anymore. Years ago when she had left Storybrooke Police to be a PI he had been utterly terrified, but in time came around to it.

“You were a crier too,” David chimed in, bringing over a tray of snacks he and Henry had put together. Being that Henry would be off to college next fall, they wanted to have as many family Sundays as possible. “Relentless. You barely slept too. Some nights I had to drive you around in the car for hours just to get you to sleep.”

“Now you see why we only had the one kid,” Mary Margaret joked. “But we have grandkids, who we can spoil all we want.”

Ruby, who also usually came over for Sunday dinner, and who was also Leila’s godmother, picked up the child from the floor. The brunette lifted her godchild into her arms where the baby remained quiet… at least for a few minutes before she would inevitably start grabbing Emma’s best friend’s dangly earrings.

“Luckily Henry was an absolute angel.” Emma remembered how terrified she had been having Henry so young, and then when he was born he was so well behaved and engaging. People in the supermarket used to compliment her on what a well behaved kid she had. Meanwhile last week, Leila had thrown periodic fits throughout their grocery store trip.

“Can’t all be like me.” Henry reached over and tickled his baby sister’s foot until she smiled. For whatever reason the little girl had a soft spot for her older brother, and even though Henry split his time between Neal’s and Emma’s homes he was still invested in the lives of his siblings. He had been an only child for a while, he liked having sisters around. “She’s gonna be a handful when she’s a teenager.”

“Don’t remind me… or Killian. He has a hard enough time dropping Anna off at preschool. I can’t even imagine when the girls start dating.”

“Kind of like you with Henry….” Ruby said. Emma had almost had a heart attack when her son had gone to the junior prom last spring. And that he had taken a date. A girl from his class named Violet who he claimed was just a friend. Yeah. Whatever.

“Hey I was very laid back about the dating thing!” Everyone in the room knew that wasn’t true. Even the one year old Leila probably knew.

To save Emma from having to argue any further about how ‘laid back’ she was as a parent, the front door opened. And she heard the pitter patter of little feet running through the hall to the living room. First she saw the dog, who immediately jumped up on the couch next to Emma. Then came her daughter, dressed in red rainboots and a yellow coat, who was dragging Killian along by two fingers. 

“Mommy! Look!” Anna said excitedly, her dark hair wild from the salty air. Wisps of her black locks falling from her pink scrunchie. She opened her hands in front of Emma to reveal a smooth shell. “Daddy’s says it’s a crab!”

“Wow! And he let you bring it in the house?” Emma feigned annoyance, glancing up at Killian. Not that she had any rules about a spotless home; she had a toddler and a baby, the house would be a mess until they were both in college.

“In fairness, I told her to leave it on the porch…” Killian said, taking steps so he was right behind his daughter. Anna came up to his knee in height, but she still had him in the palm of her hand.

“Right.”

“And how’s the little one?” Killian asked, walking over to where Leila was. Almost immediately her arms started going faster, reaching for him. He picked her up and raised her in the air, Leila drooling in delight.

“Rather vocal as per usual,” said David.

“There’s my girl,” Killian kissed his daughter’s blonde curls. Another characteristic she had inherited from Emma. “Need any help with dinner?”

“No, it’s mostly taken care of.” Henry and David had worked to prepare a nice Sunday dinner, as it was the anniversary of Killian’s parents’ death.

“I told Liam and Laura to come over around six.” Emma stood, taking her daughter’s hand. 

“Anna honey, why don’t you leave your friend there on the porch and help me and Aunt Ruby set the table?”

“Will he be okay?” asked Anna, ever the conscientious one.

“Yes, he will be fine. We can find a home for him after.”

“Okay,” she looked uncertain, back and forth between Emma and Killian, who both tried to remain serious. But she was just so cute, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to not give her everything she wanted at the moment she wanted it. After a minute or so, Anna took the small crab and put him in an old fishbowl on the porch, leaving her scarf outside next to it ‘in case he got cold’.

 

Later that evening when they all sat down to eat, gathering around the large circular table in the dining room, Emma found Killian’s hand under the table and squeezed. Not only were they surrounded by family, loved ones, good food and the four walls of their home. But the home was decorated with the paintings his mother had done throughout her life.

A year ago when the Jones mansion was finally torn down, the land sold at auction, Killian only wanted to retrieve one thing. His mother’s art. So now most rooms in their house were made better by Moira Jones originals. The particular one in the dining room, was a large arrangement of sunflowers, painted painstakingly on a large canvas. In the corner, her scribbled initials.

“I thought that, since it’s been about 24 years since mum and dad have been gone, that I should say a few words before we eat,” Liam said as he stood. Laura was in the seat next to him, beaming with pride. Emma understood that feeling, it was one she always had toward Killian. “It still feels like someone’s missing at the table when we get together, but luckily it’s being filled by our ever growing family.”

Emma looked at Anna, sitting next to her older cousin Harper, probably scheming some way to get out of sitting at the dinner table and getting back to playing. And to Killian’s nephew, Liam Jr. who came along just before Anna did. The little boy looked at Henry with the utmost admiration. Leila wasn’t at the table, instead sitting in a high chair and throwing bits of cereal to the ground where the dog happily ate them up. The family was certainly growing.

“I assume they’re watching over us now, and always, probably laughing at the fact that Killian, Mr. Eternal Bachelor, has not one but three ladies in his life that turn him into an absolute puddle…”

Everyone laughed at that, Liam always able to restore a lightness to the darkest of conversations. Emma caught a glance at Killian next to her, who was scratching behind his ear nervously but with a smirk on his face.

“So tonight, we remember them and continue to honor them always.” Liam raised his glass, the adults around the table joining in as well. “To mom and dad.”

The clinking of glasses filled the room, Emma mouthing a quick ‘I love you’ to Killian before letting the bubbly champagne fall down her throat.

 

After everyone had left, and all of the kids were finally asleep, Emma made her way to the master bedroom where she found Killian already in bed. His face pensive in thought as he stared at the canopy above the four post bed.

“Hey handsome,” she said walking over to her dresser to take off her jewelry, setting the gold studs Killian had bought her when Anna was born on the mahogany surface. Then the matching bracelet from when Leila was born. “What are ya thinking about?”

“Well… as you know, this time of year specifically harbors a lot of bad memories for me…” he said, tearing his gaze from the ceiling to look at her. “Today was the first time, I’m not sure how to put this… the table felt as complete as it ever has.”

Emma walked over to the bed and crawled in, despite the fact that she was still wearing her jeans and sweater. She just wanted to be close to him, so she settled into his side and rested her head on his chest.

“Not that it will ever be full… but between you coming into my life, and Henry, and the house and the kids, and the dog and spending time in therapy, the past isn’t as pressing anymore.”  
Emma looked up at him. His eyes clear and blue, the way they were before he would cry.

“I have a family of my own now. I’m home with my own children every night, I sleep in bed with the woman I love, you and Henry have accepted and welcomed me, I have a home that we built together, not just a house.”

“You have a full table.”

“Aye, that I do.”

As far as the kids were concerned, other than Henry who knew of the whole investigation, the rest of them just assumed Grandma and Grandpa Jones had passed away before they were born. Plenty of kids grew up without grandparents, so it wasn’t something they would elaborate on until they were much, much older.

“There’s something I want to give you, Emma…” Killian said, reaching into the drawer of his bedside table. For a second Emma’s heart sped up to an insane pace, wondering if maybe there was a ring in that drawer… but instead he pulled out what appeared to be a necklace. “This is a pocket watch, not very useful today but it was the last thing my mother gave me before she died.”

Emma looked at the intricacy of it, the silver face engraved with his mother’s initials. And for once the house was quiet enough so she could hear the faint tick.

“She told me told keep it and give it to someone special someday.” He placed it in her hand, taking her fingers and wrapping them around it. “For a long time I never thought I would find that person, but then I met you.”

“Killian… you don’t have to…”

“Ah but I want to. You and the family and the life you have given me… you’re my world, Emma. I’m a better person because of you. This belongs to you, just as my heart does.”

Emma felt tears forming behind her eyes, the sentiment enough to make her completely crumble. Instead she surged forward and kissed him. All of the passion and love she felt for him being poured in. They got lost in one another for the rest of the night, making love in their bed in their home simply because it was a Sunday night and they could.

It wasn’t until Emma woke up the next morning, warm and safe wrapped in Killian’s arms, she came to the realization that had he offered her a ring she would have without hesitation said yes. 

 

**Six Years Later: December, 2023**

Emma woke early to a quiet house… too quiet. After all, Christmas morning in this house was historically a day when her kids awoke at 5 am to open gifts. So to have slept past 7:30 was suspicious. What was even more suspicious was that when Emma rolled over in the bed, she found that it was empty. Immediately her eyes shot open, to find that Killian wasn’t on his half of the bed. He was gone. 

Panic. 

Absolute panic. 

The stress level she felt on a day to day basis hunting down criminals, running through dark alleys, handcuffing men twice her size. It was nothing compared to the nerves flooding her system at the realization that Killian and her children were nowhere in sight. Not even the dog was there. 

“Killian?” Emma called out as she slid out of bed. 

No answer. 

“Henry?” she called again, as she moved out of the bedroom to the hallway. “Anna? Leila?” 

When Emma hit the top of the staircase that’s when she finally heard signs of life, and the breath returned to her lungs. The spiral stairs that led into their foyer wrapped around a massive 15 foot Christmas tree. All lit along with the garland that lined the railing. Emma had spent days decorating the house for Christmas, it was her favorite time of year. Even when it was just she and Henry for years in their little cottage she still made sure the house was a holiday explosion. 

“Shh… she’s coming!” was what Emma heard from below. Likely Leila, who was three years old now, judging from the voice. 

There was more shuffling, scurrying, movement as Emma rounded the bend of the staircase. Her slippers met the marble floor and her eyes widened at the sight of her kids. All three of them: Henry home from his sophomore year in college for winter break, Anna wearing a pink and purple plaid nightgown with her dark hair running wild, and Leila, the tiniest one, wearing Disney princess pajamas with two mismatched socks. 

“Merry Christmas, mommy,” said her youngest child, whose face looked far less innocent in the glow of the tree. But as Emma peered around it didn’t look like any of them had opened their gifts yet, save for Princess whose head was buried in the tissue paper of a gift bag. 

“Where’s your father?” Emma asked, looking to Anna, the most obedient one and therefore most likely to clue her mother in. 

“I’m right here, love,” a smooth voice said from behind her. Emma turned to face him, his eyes glowing from the twinkly lights that filled their home. He was still in his pajamas, they all were. 

“Go on, daddy, give her your gift…” Anna urged. 

“Emma, we’ve had quite the time together these past six years…” he took her hands in his, stepping closer to her and Emma’s heart sped up to roughly 5000 beats per second. “We haven’t exactly done things in the traditional order, but I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.” 

Still holding her hands, he bent to get down on one knee. 

“I have been head over heels in love with you from the second I saw you in Storybrooke all those years ago. You’ve made my life a dream, and now I can’t imagine a time when you weren’t in it. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?” 

Emma felt her hands shaking, her heart beating out of her chest. In her wildest dreams she had never pictured herself getting married, and especially not to someone as incredible as Killian. So much had happened since they began their love story; crime fighting, a trial, building a home, kids, carpools, playdates, family dinners, career moves, it had all happened in the six years they had been together that it had never really even come up to get married. 

“Yes, of course I’ll marry you, Killian,” Emma said with tears in her eyes, she pulled him to his feet and wrapped her arms around his neck. They kissed, a loving and warm kiss safe for the eyes of the company in the room. 

After a few seconds Killian pulled away, his eyes darting to where the kids stood, “do you three want to give your mom her gifts now?” 

Without so much as a breath Emma felt them all crowd around her. First came Henry, who in his hand had a small velvet box. 

“Thanks, kid.” She smiled and embraced her son, pressing a kiss to his head and ruffling his hair even though he was 19 years old. In Henry’s hand was the engagement ring he had helped Killian pick out. The diamond was pear shaped, simple and elegant, the band rose gold. On either side of the diamond sat two small jewels. One green, an emerald. One blue, a sapphire. 

“It’s beautiful,” Emma gasped as the ring slipped onto her left hand. It was a perfect fit. 

“Well I had a little help…” Killian admitted. 

“Daddy is it our turn?” said Anna from the floor. 

“It certainly is.” He lifted both of his daughters into his arms, one on either side, so they were all at eye level. “Go on…”

“We got you rings too,” said Anna, handing over two small wrapped packages she had clearly done herself. 

“Thank you, honey,” Emma said taking them and unwrapping to find two plastic rings. One was silver, with a purple stone, clearly from Anna and the other was a pink plastic ring Emma recognized from the girls’ dress up closet. Probably from Leila. “They’re beautiful!” 

Emma slipped both on her fingers and Anna beamed. Leila seemed relatively distracted by the presents… still wrapped… from Santa… under the tree. 

“I think I’ve opened enough gifts for one day, why don’t you guys open some?” Emma suggested, and the light that filled her kids faces… even grown up Henry was incomparable, and she wanted every Christmas ever to be this exciting for them. 

Together they all sat around the tree. Henry, Anna, and Leila all tearing through gifts, Princess running around shredding the excess wrapping paper. Emma and Killian sitting on the chaise lounge together, curled up and sipping cinnamon flavored coffee. 

“My mom will be so excited,” Emma admired the ring on her finger. It was gorgeous, and something she never knew she had wanted until Killian came along. 

“Ah yes, she’s already called five times this morning to see if I asked yet,” Killian whispered from behind into her ear.

“You told her?” 

“Of course, love. She’s been asking me for years when I was going to propose.” 

“How in the world did you get the girls to keep quiet about it?” 

“I only told them this morning before you woke up. Henry’s known for months though, he can keep a secret.” 

“It doesn’t have to be anymore… we can tell everyone tonight at the party.” Emma turned in his arms, reaching up to run her hand along his cheek. 

“Sounds perfect,” He bent down and whispered into her ear, his facial hair brushing over her cheek. “Future Mrs. Jones.” 

 

The Christmas party Killian’s parents used to throw in the family’s estate years ago was one of the only traditions he was adamant about maintaining. So every year on Christmas night, Killian and Emma would host all of their friends and family at their home to get everyone together on the holiday. 

The attire was always formal, another insistence of Killian who complained that ‘no one dressed up anymore’. Normally Emma, who hated wearing dresses, would give him a hard time about it. But not this time. Tonight she felt like she was walking on air as she glided through the party in fully swing with her fiance on her arm and a swirly red dress that fit her perfectly. 

Killian seemed to like it. She had caught him staring at her probably fifteen times since she had gotten dressed. Even now standing in the kitchen, Emma felt him peering at her. Her skin grew warm when she glanced at him, leaned against the cabinets across the room. His slim fit black suit hugging him perfectly, his hair slicked back, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. But as there were about twenty caterers in the kitchen prepping for dinner Emma tried to contain herself. 

“Emma, love, would you come here a second?” Killian said, ever the gentleman as he held open the door that led to the laundry room off of the kitchen. No one else in the room even looked up. 

“Sure,” she said, her eyebrow going up to indicate she knew he was up to no good. Emma followed him into the laundry room and as soon as the door closed he was on her, pressing her back against it. She leaned into him, as his lips attacked her neck. Her leg curling around him instinctively. 

“Careful… careful… not the neck. No marks.” Even though it was her favorite spot, and she loved when he marked her, she knew she couldn’t enter the laundry room with no hickies and come out with a handful of them. 

“How much time do we have?” he asked breathing between movements of his mouth. Bending his head to suck on the tops of her breasts that poked out of her dress. 

“Not enough… we have to be quick… someone might see,” Emma moaned as his mouth grew more demanding and his hand climbed under her skirt. Feeling the tops of her lace thigh highs and matching panties. 

“Damn them. I don’t care…” he growled possessively as his fingers moved to part her slick, wet center. “You’re absolutely soaked for me.” 

“Only for you, always,” Emma gasped as he inserted a finger, then another. Her other leg wrapped around him. The filthiest things always feeling so right with him. Her hands grabbed onto the lapels of his suit jacket, tearing the thing off of his body. 

They didn’t have much time, dinner would be served soon and obviously the hosts had to be present for that. 

“I need you in me. Now.” Her voice had a demanding tone to it. Which was rare for her during sex, it was the one part of her life where she enjoyed being dominated. But she for sure wasn’t leaving the confines of the laundry room without an orgasm at the mercy of Killian Jones. Especially if she had another several hours of small talk and mingling before she could be alone with him again. 

With shaky hands she helped him undo his belt, and in one swift movement he had surged forward into her. The shock of his large member fully sheathed inside of her rendering her body frozen for a second. 

“Fuck…” he growled. His hands moving to cup her ass and pull her forward around him. Emma’s arms eagerly tugged him to her. He smelled incredible, his perfectly manicured hair from earlier now a wreck from her hands. He was still inside of her, hard and ready as he began to brutally pump in and out of her until she was at her peak. 

Sweat formed on both of their foreheads, Killian reached out with the most delicate brush of his hand to her hair, as if he hadn’t just been pounding into her like a wild animal. 

“Fall for me, my love, I want to watch you.” 

Those words and one final thrust did it. She crashed, her shaking legs doing their best to hold onto him. He held tight to her, relieving her of most of the work. 

“You’re amazing, Emma,” he cooed in her ear after they had both finished. Killian pressing gentle kisses to her cheeks, throat, and collar bones as she caught her breath. When his hands moved up her toro he seemed to notice the ribbing of what she wore beneath her dress. “What in the…”

“It’s a corset,” she whispered slowly into his ear. She felt a shiver run through him. She had to get him back somehow for bringing her in here. Even if the revenge wasn’t necessarily a punishment so much as a pleasure. “Tell me, Mr. Jones, do you like lace?”

A question she had asked him years ago when their relationship had first started. One that she knew the answer to. 

“I do,” he replied, breath catching as she took one of his hands and dragged it up her leg, under her dress, over the garter belt, to where the bottom of the lace corset began. She had bought the outfit weeks ago, excited to show him but waiting for the opportunity. 

“Good.” She bit the lobe of his ear, and licked just beneath it. “Your gift is wrapped in it.” 

He growled, and his erection pressed into her leg. God she wanted him again already, but there were a couple hundred people in their home right now. 

“I suppose you’ll just have to wait.” She tilted her head, toying with the tie on his neck. Her eyes wide with feigned innocence. 

“It will be an excruciating form of torture but always worth it for you, my darling.” 

She bit her lip, and noticed him watch her. His eyes hooded with the lingering desire that burned between them. His hair stood on end from her fingers and his lips had formed into some sort of pout. And when she couldn’t resist a second longer she pulled him by his tie to kiss her. One last time before they had to exit the laundry room and pretend to be on their best behavior. At least for a little while. 

 

“When should we do it, most everyone’s here I think?” Killian whispered in her ear. They had circulated the party, eaten dinner and had just concluded a particularly long conversation with Belle who had been released from prison the year prior on parole. Emma had invited both Milah and Neal, but the two had decided to spend her first Christmas out of prison in London. 

“Just about. Where are the kids?” Emma asked, scanning the massive crowd of friends and family for them. 

“Love, if you want to wait for them we can but I’m afraid they’ve built up alliances with the other children here to be the first in line to sit on Santa’s lap… and Henry seems to have found a way to swindle the waiters into giving him champagne.” 

Emma had hired a man to sit in the den, hand out small gifts she had wrapped up herself, and take requests for the following Christmas. She had also arranged a gift drive with the local women’s shelter. All of the guests at their party were required to bring gifts, which filled Killian’s office. And each year after the party, Emma, Killian and the kids would deliver the gifts and a full dinner. 

“We’ve got quite the strategists haven’t we?” Emma joked. Anna and Leila were most certainly at the head of whatever uprising was occuring. 

“Well if nothing else we know Leila has already shed her shoes…” Killian stopped at the foot of the spiral staircase where two little patent leather Mary Janes sat in a pile. Emma shook her head, remembering she used to do the same thing. She still did the same thing. Like mother like daughter. 

Taking the shoes from Killian, and setting them on the front hall table she followed him halfway up the stairs. When she turned around, leaning into her fiance’s embrace and staring out into the crowd at all of the people she loved. She could see Henry and his friends in a corner, most likely trying to find a way to sneak champagne. She could see her mother and father, talking to Ruby’s grandmother near an appetizer table. She could see Liam and Laura, mingling with other people from the town. She could see Ruby and her wife, Dorothy, whom she had met all those years ago at The Rabbit Hole of all places. She could see Elsa and all of the wonderful people she worked with daily. And while she couldn’t see Anna or Leila, she could most certainly hear them running through the upstairs hallway with all of the other children in attendance despite the fact that Emma had said not to make a mess of the upstairs. 

“Good evening everyone, I hope you’re all having a lovely time. As you know all of your donations tonight will be going to the Havenwood Women’s Shelter, a charity my brother Liam and I started in our mother’s name years ago.” 

The room erupted in applause. When Liam and Killian had finally gotten their inheritance after the trial was settled, the money was used to build a community to provide refuge for people in difficult domestic situations. A safe place, unmarked on the map, to help restart their lives. 

“Every year this collection grows a bit larger and it’s by my estimation that we will need several large trucks to transport all of the food and gifts tonight.” 

The first year they had just kept it small, and driven everything over in a van. 

“So before the dessert is served I would like to once again thank you all for continuing to support the work of the shelter, they do incredible things for a lot of people and it wouldn’t be possible without this night.” 

Again another eruption of applause, a few whistles, but then it went quiet again and Emma knew what was coming next. 

“In addition to that I would also like to take this time, when we have all of our friends and family gathered in one space, to announce that this morning I asked Emma to marry me,” He faced Emma now, bringing her hand up to his mouth and brushing his lips across the knuckles. Her heart beat so wildly that all she wanted to do was just be alone with him in a bed for like 4 days straight. He kept his eyes on her though as he announced, “And she said yes.” 

Emma leaned in to kiss him, not able to wait another second, as the crowd exploded in cheers and applause. There were a few screams of ‘well it’s about time!’ or ‘finally!’. It sounded like there were 20,000 people in the room instead of 200. Either way it felt like a dream. A complete and utter dream. Especially after their lips pulled apart and their foreheads rested on one another’s. 

“I love you so much, Emma.” 

“I love you, Killian.” 

 

**Thirty Years Later: July, 2048**

Emma had been Mrs. Killian Jones for twenty five years and she still remembered the day they got married like it was yesterday. 

She remembered the white lace dress she wore, form fitting to her body like a glove and fanning into a full skirt at her knee. She remembered the thousands of white roses that had transformed their backyard into a wonderland. She remembered the look on Killian’s face as she walked down the aisle. The expression of love, respect, and adoration he had given her when she stood in front of him. 

Now, over two decades later, Emma looked at herself in the mirror, surveying the smile lines and forehead wrinkles she had. Today was the 25th anniversary of their wedding. And also the day she and Killian would be renewing their vows. 

On the dressing table in her closet sat a clutter of makeup, bobby pins, brushes, and a wedding photo of she and Killian from their wedding twenty five years ago. In it they sat on their front porch, leaned against a white post and looking off into the distance. Kilian’s arm held Emma close and the softness to both of their faces as they basked in marital bliss was the reason why she kept this photo framed on her dressing table. 

“You need a little more baby’s breath, mom,” Anna said, still fiddling with Emma’s hair, pins between her teeth. Her oldest daughter was particular, a perfectionist, like her father. Looked just like him too. The sharp, elegant features, long eyelashes, dark hair. But she was also highly creative, so anything hands on came easily to Anna. It was what also made her an incredible asset to Killian’s consulting firm. And it was why she was currently in charge of hair and makeup. “Leila can you hand me more?”

“I’m still not sure what baby’s breath is…” said Leila, who was a different story. She was more analytical, like her mother in almost every way, she wasn’t focused on perfection but instead was fascinated by the flawed. That’s what made her such a good detective. “Is it the pink stuff?”

“No… it’s the little white ones. Over by the bouquet.”

“If you put too many more in her hair she’s going to get attacked by bugs,” Leila said, handing the stems to her sister. For years when the two were young they got along well, then for teenagers they disagreed incessantly. But when Anna moved away to London for college, they started to get along again. 

“She is not, they look elegant.” 

Anna had loosely curled her mother’s hair, the long blonde strands now streaked with hints of gray. Some said it wasn’t appropriate for a woman approaching 64 years old to have hair down her back but that was what Emma liked. Some of the strands were pulled back off of her face by weavings of braids and flowers, a dusting of makeup on her face, a simple off white sundress that reached the floor. Around her neck was the pocket watch from his mother that Killian had given her, hitting the light and casting a shine on the surface of the table. She felt just as she did that day all of those years ago. 

“Mom, you look so beautiful,” said her youngest daughter. She was the spitting image of Emma at 27. Long blonde hair, heart shaped face, a low tolerance for bull shit. The only difference being the eye color, her daughter’s blue eyes clearly came from Killian. 

“So do you, both of you,” Emma stood taking one hand from each of her daughters. They both also wore off white sundresses, theirs coming to about their knees. Anna’s hair was pinned up in a complicated braid while Leila left hers down and curly. Emma’s heart warmed. Her kids were her greatest accomplishment. Henry, Anna, Leila. They were what she was most proud of. “I think it’s about time we head out.” 

Emma peered out the closet window into the backyard. The renewing of their vows would be a smaller gathering than their original wedding. Just close family and friends. Fifty guests this time instead of several hundred. Among them was Anna’s fiance Adam, whom she had met in college and been with ever since. 

“Knock, knock.” A tap at the door warned them someone was poking their head in. “Mind if I talk to the bride?” 

“It’s bad luck for the groom to see before the wedding, dad,” Leila joked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Not if the bride and groom have already been together for thirty years,” Killian stepped into the room, removing his hands from over his eyes. He wore a navy blue suit, with a crisp white shirt beneath. Emma could see his chest hair peeking out of the collar. There was more gray than black in his hair now, but if anything it only made him more handsome. “You all look stunning.” 

“Thanks dad,” said Anna, moving toward her father for a hug. Shortly followed by Leila. It was probably best they had stopped at two kids. If Killian had one more girl he would be bankrupt right now. Surprising to no one he had a difficult time saying no to his daughters, it had been up to Emma to make sure the girls stayed normal and not spoiled to an insane degree. 

“Your brother’s waiting in the kitchen, we’ll be down in a minute,” he said kissing the tops of their heads, as he had done when they were little. 

Once the girls were out of the room, Killian closed the door, eyes locking on Emma. Though they both had a few more wrinkles now, at their cores they were the same people. Which meant that after all of this time they were still sickeningly attracted to one another, to a fault that sometimes induced gagging on the behalf of their children. So the look he was giving her right now, thirty years after they had started this thing, still made her heart flutter. 

He stepped closer to her, the dress shoes hitting the hardwood floor in even beats. Emma felt her face flush as he reached up to touch her face. His thumb tracing her bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful, my love.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself, old man.” 

“Emma, I’m hardly three years older than you.” 

“Yeah but your hair’s a lot grayer than mine,” she teased, leaning in to kiss her husband. 

“I thought you liked the gray.” He broke the kiss with a smirk. 

“I do,” Emma grabbed at it. Even though he had clearly spent time smoothing it over, taming it, she ran her fingers through the back at the nape of his neck. “It makes you look very sophisticated. Like a true gentleman.” 

“Ah, love, I’m always a gentleman.” 

“Tell that to my underwear you ripped off of me with your teeth last night…” she whispered in his ear. 

“I don’t recall any displeasure on your part.” He pulled back to eye her with that damned smolder of his. The man was mid sixties and still devastatingly beautiful. 

Beside that though, in the years Emma had spent with him, he had been the most loving and wonderful husband. In her line of work it would have been easy to lose faith in marriage and family. She spent a lot of her days tracking down cheating spouses, abusive partners, murderous husbands, seeing the negative. But then after a long day she would come home to Killian, and they would sit on the porch to watch the sunset or curl up and watch a movie or go for a walk on the beach. He would make it all fade away. 

Even right now, in their master suite closet as he nibbled on her neck and ear, whispering naughty things into her head she realized not once had she ever doubted him. 

“Save it for the honeymoon, buddy.” 

“As far as I’m concerned the honeymoon as already started, Mrs. Jones.” 

“And it will continue, but there are fifty some people in our backyard waiting for us to renew our vows…” She tried not to get distracted by his mouth, really tried. “So we have to do that first.” 

“If you insist.” 

“I do.” 

“Say it again,” he said. Eyes serious, their deep blue. 

“I do,” she whispered. Pressing a kiss to his mouth before tearing away to go outside and do the same thing in front of their closest friends and family. 

 

The ceremony was beautiful. It had all come together so well, unlike their original wedding day where it had rained, the caterer had brought the wrong food, the generator didn’t work, Emma’s dress ripped on a tree branch, Leila was three years old and had thrown a temper tantrum while tossing flowers down the aisle, Henry had a sinus infection and went to bed immediately after the ceremony. But today was different. 

The sun was shining, the air was warm. Emma’s parents were well into their 80s, old and gray, but David still walked her down the aisle. A tad slower, but no less happy. 

“I never thought I’d have to do this again,” her father said to her before they started their walk. 

“Neither did I,” Emma whispered. The idea to renew their vows had come one night several months ago when Anna was in a panic about being engaged. She had showed up at Emma and Killian’s house, frantic about the divorce rate and how no one stayed married. What if she and Adam ended up hating each other? 

Killian, always willing to go the extra mile to please his little girl, told her that not all marriages ended that way. And so the plan to have a vow renewal ceremony, to show that people could be together for 30, 40, 50 years and be happy. In addition to that Liam and Killian had gotten drunk one night and became ordained ministers on the internet so Liam wanted an opportunity to utilize that. 

When Emma reached the end of the isle and faced Killian, she felt no different than when this had happened all of those years ago. Emma looked around and found her kids sitting in the front row. Henry now in his forties, with a wife and two kids of his own. Boys. Emma’s first grandchildren. They lived in a house in Storybrooke, Henry had become a teacher like his grandmother. Neal, who had eventually married, lived with them now along with his wife. And Henry had built an apartment in the attic for his father. Then came Anna, with perfect posture and a sweet smile who was next to her fiance Adam. Adam was a handsome young man who was an engineer, and looked at Anna the same way Killian looked at Emma. Just from the way they were around one another, she knew the pair would have a long, happy life together. 

Then there was Leila, who sat next to her grandmother, holding Mary Margaret’s hand. Emma’s youngest was more like her than either of the other two. Never keeping a boyfriend long, building her life to avoid commitment. Working a job as a detective at Elsa’s company with her mother, that didn’t lend itself to much of a personal life. However, as of two months ago a new detective had come aboard. A young man with dark hair, tattoos, and deep chocolate brown eyes. Who was the only one in the office who could get a rise out of Leila, the two bickered constantly. But Emma knew what that meant for her daughter. She would fight it, no doubt, but eventually she would end up with that man. 

Emma turned back to face her husband, the man who had helped her create all of this. The big blue house of their dreams by the beach, the blended family, the memories. Killian’s eyes boring into her and all of a sudden it felt like they were the only two here. 

“Killian, if you would like to start,” Liam eventually said, easing them into the vows they had written.

“Emma Nolan-Jones, the day you came into my life I thought that I was returning to Storybrooke so that I could quickly leave and start my future somewhere else. As it turned out, I’ve never left because my future was right here the whole time. You helped me through one of the darkest periods of my life, and for that I will always be grateful. You’ve been my best friend when I needed one, a partner in all aspects, a phenomenal mother, and wife. I’ve fallen more in love with you each second of time we’ve spent together and I can’t wait to be married to you for another 25 years.” 

His words almost mirrored the ones he had declared years ago. Substituting in a few new things. 

“Killian Jones to say that you got under my skin when I encountered you 30 plus years ago, would be an understatement. You entered my life, my world, and turned out to be one of the best things that has ever happened to me. Until you I never saw myself with someone forever, I wasn’t a believer in soul mates or true love. But you scaled the walls I built around my heart and filled that space with love. Supportive, romantic, fairytale level love. You’re the love of my life, and everything I said in this spot 25 years ago still applies.” 

They both smiled at each other, a rolling clip of their lives since their first wedding playing in Emma’s head. 

When Killian had asked Henry to be his best man, and every time before and after that he had been an incredible step-father to her son. 

Their honeymoon to the Bahamas, they had come back after one night because they didn’t want to be away from the kids for a full week. 

When Lifetime had made some puff piece movie about their relationship during the investigation of his parents’ murder, and laughed while they watched the whole thing together. 

Every anniversary dinner they had spent at The Golden Swan, reliving their first date and creating a new memory for each time. 

When Emma and Killian sat down to tell the girls what had happened to his parents, to their grandparents, and for the first time he was able to explain it himself. Beginning to end. It was also the first time they had seen their father cry. 

Anna leaving for school in London, and Killian immediately buying an airline ticket to visit her the following week. 

When Emma actually did end up leaving a stakeout to get to her daughters’ dance recital in time to see them go on stage. 

When Leila broke her wrist during gym class of her freshman year of high school and Killian had dropped everything to take her to the hospital, getting there before the ambulance did. 

Each of the high school and college graduations Emma and Killian sat through, snapping pictures, cheering, silently hoping the kids would decide to move home after college (none of them did). 

The night that they lost Princess, just after all of the kids had moved away. And together Killian and Emma hid out in their house for an entire weekend before facing the world again. Together. 

When, at one time, they had roughly six rescue dogs living with them. 

Killian and Emma’s trips around the world together, traveling from place to place and falling in love over and over in each one. 

Saturday mornings spent together on their front porch, reading, talking, taking their time. No rush to go anywhere. Those were Emma’s favorite, something she had envisioned so early on in their relationship that had actually come true. 

Through all of it; good times, bad times, health scares, trips, dates, tears, smiles, laughter, careers, they had weathered every storm. They had been at each other’s sides. Together they had built a wonderful life that they got to live each day. 

“I, once again, pronounce you husband and wife,” Liam said, drawing Emma out of her flashbacks. “You may now kiss the bride.” 

The first time, Emma had been so nervous after the whole day had gone wrong that their kiss was hurried, not worthy of the kind of love they shared. This one was different. Killian leaned in as did she, his arms pulling her into him. She breathed in his scent, the one that distinctly belonged to him. 

“I love you, Killian,” she said. 

“And I, you, Emma,” he cooed. 

“To another 30 years,” Emma said back just before their lips finally met. A smooth, passionate kiss that Emma felt to her toes. When they pulled apart, his hand cupped her cheek. Eyes light with love, she smiled up at him and he looked at her like she hung the moon. 

Just before he kissed her again he whispered softly in her ear, “To the rest of our lives and beyond.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading, feel free to leave comments and messages. I always appreciate it. 
> 
> The whole conclusion was inspired by us never seeing these two live their lives out together. So I ran with that idea to end on (since I'm a total sucker for happy endings, and there's no way I could cut this thing off at anything less than a fairytale). 
> 
> This story has been my creative outlet for a long time and has given me new found confidence in writing. So while this is the end of this story, it isn't the end of me publishing work on here. I hope to have something in the works again in January after a bit of a break. Stay tuned for that if you're interested! 
> 
> Forever appreciative of all the support. Happy holidays to everyone, hope they're filled with lots of love!


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